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THE LANCE 
OF KANANA 


A 

STORY OF 

Arabia 






SLOWLY KANANA RAISED THE LANCE —Page 159 







THE LANCE 
OF KANANA 

JL STORY OF .ARABIA 

BY HARRY W. FRENCH Q‘Abd el Ardamn”) 

n v y 



DRAWINGS BY 
WILFRED JONES 


> > > 
I > 

* i 1 


Boston 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 






Copyright, 1892 , 

By D. Lothrop Company 

Copyright, 1920, By George A. French 
Copyright, 1932, By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 

THE LANCE OF KANANA 



PRINTED IN U.S.A. 


JUN -3 m?J 

©CIA 51645U 


2 - 




A fainting Arab halted at a well 
Held in the hollow of the desert’s hand. 


Empty! Hope vanished, and he gasped 
and fell. 

At night the West Wind wafted o’er 
the land 

The welcome dew, a promise to foretell: 

Hers this result, for which she bade 
him stand. 


H. W. F. 







CONTENTS 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS 11 

II. THE OLD SHEIK’S PROMISE 20 

III. AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 28 

IV. THE PROMISE 39 

V. LED BY A WHITE CAMEL 53 

VI. KANANA AND THE CALIPH 63 

VII. A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 76 

VIII. TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 87 

IX. FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 101 



CONTENTS ( Continued ) 


X. XANANA’S THIRD MISSION 116 

XI. THE SACRED GIRDLE 126 

XII. XANANA’S MESSENGERS 136 

XIII. THE LANCE OF XANANA 148 




ILLUSTRATIONS 

SLOWLY KANANA RAISED THE LANCE 

[page 159 ] Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

“IN THE NAME OF ALLAH, I WILL” 50 

“FASTER,” SAID KANANA 80 



THE SILENT FIGURE DEMANDED RESPECT 


92 






THE COWARD 
OF THE BENI SADS 

i 

K ANANA was an Arab—a Bedouin boy 
of many years ago, bom upon the desert, 
of the seed of Ishmael, of the tribe of 

Beni Sad. 

It seems well-nigh impossible that the Bedouin 
boy could have lived who was not accustomed to 

11 





THE LANCE OF KANANA 


the use of the sword and lance, long before he 
reached the dignity of manhood. 

The peculiar thing about Kanana was that he 
never held a lance in his hand but once; yet many 
a celebrated sheik and powerful chieftain of his 
day lies dead, buried, and forgotten long ago, 
while the name of Kanana is still a magic battle- 
cry among the sons of Ishmael, and his lance is 
one of the most precious relics of Arabia. 

The old mothers and the white-haired veterans 
love to tell the story of the lance of Kanana; their 
black eyes flash like coals of fire when then say 
of it that it rescued Arabia. 

The Beni Sads were a powerful tribe of roving 
Bedouins. Kanana was the youngest son of the 
venerable chief; the sheik who in the days of his 
strength was known from the Euphrates to the 
sea as the “Terror of the Desert.” 

By a custom older than the Boyhood of King 
David it fell to the lot of the youngest son to 
tend his father s sheep. The occupation was not 
considered dignified. It was not toKanana’s liking 
12 


THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS 


and it need not have lasted long; for the Terror of 
the Desert thought more of making warriors than 
shepherds of his sons, but greatly to his father s 
disgust Kanana refused to exchange his shepherd’s 
staff for a warrior’s lance. It was not that he loved 
the staff, but that he objected to the lance. 

The tribe called Kanana effeminate because he 
was thoughtful and quiet, where other boys were 
turbulent, and as he grew older and the boyish 
fancy became a decided conviction against the 
combats constantly going on between the differ¬ 
ent tribes, they even called him a coward and said 
that he did not dare to fight. 

There is but one name more bitter than 
“ coward ” to the Arab. That name is “ traitor,” and 
after being called a coward almost all his life, 
the very last words which Kanana heard from 
the lips of his countrymen came in frantic yells, 
calling him a traitor. 

To-day, however, it is always with throbbing 
hearts and flashing eyes that they repeat the story 
of the Lance of Kanana that rescued Arabia. 


13 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Until he was five years old, Kanana rolled about 
in the sand and sunshine, like the other children, 
with nothing on him but a twisted leather cord, 
tied round his waist. 

Then, for five years, according to the custom 
of his people, he helped the women of his father’s 
tent; shaking the goat-skin filled with cream till 
it turned into butter; watching the kedder upon 
the fire, drying the buttermilk to be ground into 
flour, and digging kemma, which grow like 
truffles, under the sand. 

After he was ten, for three years he watched 
the sheep and goats and the she-camels. That 
was the regular course of education through 
which all Bedouin boys must pass. 

When he reached the age at which Ishmael 
was sent away with Hagar by Abraham, he was 
supposed to drop all menial labor and take his 
place among men; making a position for himself 
according to the fighting qualities which he 
possessed. 

Kanana’s fighting qualities, however, were only 


14 


THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS 


exhibited in the warfare which now began be¬ 
tween him and his father. 

There were at that time very few occupations 
open to the Bedouin boy. The tribe was celebrated 
for its men of learning and boasted the most 
skillful physicians in all Arabia; but they had all 
won their first laurels with the lance, and none 
of them wanted Kanana. 

Three times his father came to him with the 
question: “Are you ready to be a man ? ” and three 
times Kanana replied, “My father, I can not lift a 
lance to take a life, unless it be for Allah and 
Arabia.” 

How he came by a notion so curious no Arab 
could tell. The lad well knew the old decree 
that the hand of the Ishmaelite should be against 
every man , and every man’s hand against him. He 
knew that every Arab of the desert lived by a war¬ 
fare that was simply murder and robbery. Was 
he not an Arab, and an Ishmaelite? 

Alone, among the sheep and camels, he had 
thought out his own theory. Kanana said to him- 

15 



THE LANCE OF KANANA 


self, “I am taught that Allah created these animals 
and cares for them, and that I cannot please him 
if I allow them to suffer; it must be surely that 
men are more precious to Allah than animals. 
Why should we kill one another, even if we are 
Arabs and Ishmaelites?” 

The menial tasks still allotted to Kanana grew 
more and more irksome. His punishment was 
far more keen than the tribe supposed; no 
one dreamed of the sharp cringe of pain with 
which he heard even the children call him a 
coward. 

There were some faculties which Kanana 
possessed that made the warriors all envy him. 
He had a remarkable power over animals. No 
other Beni Sad could ride a camel or a horse so 
fast as Kanana. The most refractory creature 
would obey Kanana. Then, too, Kanana was 
foremost in the games and races. No other 
shepherd’s eye was nearly so quick as Kanana’s to 
detect an enemy approaching the flocks at night. 
No other young Bedouin, watching the ripening 
16 


THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS 


grain, could throw a stone from his sling so far 
and so accurately at the robber birds. 

These accomplishments, however, only made 
his father the more angry that Kanana would not 
turn his gifts to some more profitable end. 

Every year for three months—from planting 
to harvest-time—the Beni Sads encamped upon a 
river bank, on the outskirts of the Great Desert. 
The encampment numbered nearly five hundred 
tents set in four rows as straight as an arrow flies. 
These tents, of black goaf s-hair cloth, were seven 
feet high in the center and five feet high on the 
sides. Some of them were twenty feet broad, and 
each was divided by a beautiful hanging white 
Damascus carpet. The men occupied one side, 
and the women and children the other. The 
favorite mare and the most valuable of the 
camels always slept by the tent, and the mas¬ 
ter’s lance stood thrust into the ground at the 
entrance. 

Far as the eye could reach, up and down the 
sluggish river, a field of ripening grain filled the 

17 



THE LANCE OF KANANA 


narrow space between the yellow water and the 
silver-gray of the desert sand 

Here and there, through the grain-field, rose 
curious perches—platforms, constructed upon 
poles driven into the ground. Upon these plat¬ 
forms watchers were stationed when the grain 
began to head, and there they remained, night 
and day, till it was harvested, frightening the 
birds away. 

Once a day the women brought them food, 
consisting of buttermilk, dried and ground and 
mixed with melted butter and dates; these same 
women renewed the supply of stones to throw at 
the birds. 

The watchers were old men, women who were 
not needed in the tents, and little children; but 
all alone, this year, upon the most distant perch, 
sat Kanana. 

There was not one of the tribe but felt that 
he richly deserved this disgrace; and Kanana could 
see no way to earn their respect, no way to prove 
himself a brave fellow. He was glad that they 
18 



THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS 


had given him the most distant perch, for there 
he could bear his hard lot, away from jests and 
jeers. 

The women who brought the food stopped 
for a long time at some of the perches, reporting 
all the news, but they never troubled themselves 
to relieve Kanana’s solitude. The perches were 
too far apart for conversation. Kanana had always 
time enough to think, and as the grain grew 
yellow this year, he came to two positive con¬ 
clusions. He firmly resolved that before the 
reapers entered that field he would do something 
to convince his people that he was not a coward; 
failing that, he would hang his head in shame, 
acknowledge that they were right, and fly for¬ 
ever from their taunts. 



19 




THE 

OLD SHEIK’S PROMISE 

ii 

T HE sun was beating fiercely down upon 
Kanana s perch, but he had not noticed 
it. The stones piled beside him for his 
sling were almost hot enough to burn his hand, 
but he did not realize it, for he had not touched 
them for a long time. The wooden dish of paste 
20 








THE OLD SHEIK’S PROMISE 


and dates stood in the shadow of the perch. He 
had not tasted them. 

The pile of stones grew hotter and hotter. 
The hungry birds ate and quarreled and ate with 
no one to disturb them. The Bedouin boy sat 
crossed-legged on his perch, heedless of every¬ 
thing, twisting and untwisting the leather cords 
of his sling, struggling to look into the mists 
that covered up his destiny. 

“Hi, there! you slothful son of a brave father! 
Look at the birds about you. Are you dead, or 
only sleeping?” sounded the distant but shrill and 
painfully distinct voice of an old woman who, 
with two children much younger than Kanana, 
occupied the next perch. 

Kanana roused himself and sent the stones 
flying from his sling till there was not a bird in 
sight. Then he sank into deep thought once 
more; with his head resting upon his hands he 
became oblivious to everything. 

Suddenly he was roused by the sound of 
horses hoofs upon the sandy soil, a sharp rustling 

21 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


in the drying grain. He looked up, as thoroughly 
startled as though he had been sleeping, to see 
approaching him the one person than whom he 
would rather that any or all of the tribe of Beni 
Sad should find him negligent at his post of duty. 

It was his father. 

“Oh, Kanana! oh, Kanana!” cried the old man, 
angrily. “Thou son of my old age, why didst thou 
come into the world to curse me? When thou 
shakest the cream, the butter is spoiled. When 
thou tendest the sheep, they are stolen! When 
thou watchest the grain, it is eaten before thy 
face! What shall a father do with a son who 
will neither lift his hand among men nor bear 
a part with women? And now, when all the 
miseries of life have taken hold upon me and the 
floods cover me, thou sittest at thine ease to 
mock me!” 

Kanana sprang down from his perch. Kneeling, 
he touched his forehead to the ground. 

“My father, slay me and I will take it as a 
mercy from thy hand. Or, as I am fit for nothing 
22 



THE OLD SHEIK’S PROMISE 


here, bid me go, and among strangers I will beg. 
But thou shalt not, my father, speak of me as 
ungrateful, unfilial. I know of no flood of sorrow 
that has come down upon thee.” 

“Thou knowest not what they all know?” 
exclaimed the old man fiercely. 

“I know of nothing, my father. Since I came 
into the field, three weeks ago, no one has spoken 
to me but to chide me.” 

“Then know now,” replied the sheik reproach¬ 
fully, “ that of thy two brave brothers who went 
with the last caravan, one has returned, wounded 
and helpless, and the other, for an old cause of 
blood between our tribes, has been made a pris¬ 
oner by Raschid Airikat. The whole caravan, 
with the white camel at its head, Raschid 
has taken, and he has turned with it toward 
Damascus.” 

“Thy part of the caravan was very small, my 
father,” said Kanana. “Only four of the camels 
were thine, and but for the white camel they 
were all very old. Their burdens, too, saving my 

23 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 

brothers, were only honey and clay-dust, of little 
value.” 

This was the simple truth, and evinced at least 
a very practical side to Kanana’s mind; but it 
was not the kind of sympathy which the skeik 
desired, and his anger burst out afresh against 
Kanana. 

“Ay, thou tender of flocks, and sleeper!” he 
cried. “Wouldst thou teach me the value of 
camels and merchandise to comfort me? And 
hast thou fixed the price of ransom which Airikat 
will demand, or slay thy brother ? And hast thou 
reckoned up the value of the white camel which 
could not be bought for gold, as it brought to 
thy father and thy father’s father all their abund¬ 
ance of good? Answer me, if thou art so wise 
Oh, that I had a son remaining who could lift a 
lance against this Airikat as bravely as he hurls 
his empty words at an old father!” 

“My father,” said Kanana earnestly, “give me 
a horse, a sack of grain, a skin of water, and I 
will follow after Raschid Airikat. I will not 


24 


THE OLD SHEIK’S PROMISE 


slay him, but, by the help of Allah, I will bring 
back to thee thy white camel with my brother 
seated upon his back.” 

The old sheik made a gesture of derision: 
“Thou wisp of flax before a fire! Thou reed be¬ 
fore a whirlwind! Get thee back to thy perch 
and thy birds, and see if thou canst keep awake 
till sundown. Harvesting will begin with the 
daylight to-morrow. See that thou workest 
then.” 

Kanana rose to his feet. Looking calmly into 
the old sheik’s angry face, he replied: 

“My father, I will watch the birds till sun¬ 
down. Then let others do the reaping. Kanana, 
whom thou scornest, will be far away upon the 
desert, to seek and find his brother.” 

“Did I not say I would not trust a horse to 
thee?” exclaimed the old man, looking at him in 
astonishment. 

“These feet of mine can do my bidding well 
enough,” replied Kanana. “And by the beard of 
the Prophet they shall do it till they have re- 

25 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


turned to thee thy son and thy white camel. I 
would do something, O my father, that I, too, 
might have thy blessing and not thy curse. It 
is the voice of Allah bids me go. Now say to 
me that if I bring them back then thou wilt 
bless me, too, ay, even though still I will 
not lift a lance, unless it be for Allah and 
Arabia.” 

The aged warrior looked down in a sort of 
scornful pity upon his boy, standing among the 
stalks of grain; half in jest, half in charity, he 
muttered, “Yes, then I will bless thee,” and rode 
away. 

The harvesting began, as the old sheik had 
said, with the next daylight, but Kanana was not 
among the reapers. 

Few so much as missed him, even, and those 
who did miss him supposed that he had hidden 
himself to avoid their jests. 

Only the sullen sheik, bowed under his afflic¬ 
tion, thought often of Kanana as he rode up and 
down the line. He remembered his looks, his 
26 



THE OLD SHEIK’S PROMISE 


words. He wondered if he could have been mis¬ 
taken in the boy. He wished he had given him 
the horse and that he had blessed him before he 
went away. 





AT THE FOOT OF 
MOUNT HOR 


in 

T HE moment the sun sank into the bil¬ 
lows of sand Kanana had left his perch. 
From the loaded stalks about him he 
gathered a goat’s-hair sack of grain and fastened 
it upon his back. There was no one to whom 
he need say farewell, and, armed only with his 
28 





AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 


shepherd’s staff, he started away upon the desert, 
setting his course to the north and west. 

Before he had gone far he passed a lad of about 
his own age who had come from the encamp¬ 
ment to hunt for desert-rats. Had Kanana seen 
him he would have made a wide detour, but the 
boy lay so still upon the sand that the first 
Kanana knew of his presence was when a low 
sarcastic voice uttered his name. 

“Kanana!” it exclaimed. “Thou here! Dost 
thou not fear that some rat may bite thee? 
Whither darest thou to go, thus, all alone, and 
after dark, upon the sand?” 

Fire flashed from Kanana’s eyes. His hand 
clutched his shepherd’s staff and involuntarily 
he lifted it; but the better counsel of his curious 
notions checked the blow. It was so dark that 
the boy upon the sand did not notice the effect 
of his taunts and knew nothing of his narrow 
escape. He only heard the quiet voice of Kanana 
as presently it meekly replied to his question: 

“I go to Mount Hor.” 


29 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


It was an answer so absurd that the boy gave 
it no second thought and by the time that the 
footsteps of Kanana had died away the rat- 
hunter had as utterly forgotten him as though 
he had never existed. 

To Mount Hor? 

Kanana had only the most imperfect informa¬ 
tion to guide him. He knew that the Beni Sad 
caravan had been for some days upon the road 
southward, to Mecca, when it was captured by 
Raschid Airikat and turned at an angle, north¬ 
ward, toward Damascus. 

Seen from a great distance, over the sea of sand, 
the solitary peak of old Mount Hor, where 
Aaron, the great high priest of Israel, was buried, 
forms a startling beacon. By day or night, it 
rises clear and sharp against the sky, guiding the 
caravans northward, from Arabia to Jerusalem and 
Damascus, and southward from Syria to Medina 
and Mecca; while the fertile oasis about it is the 
universal resting-place. 

Kanana was not at all sure that the caravan 


30 


AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 

i 

would not have passed Mount Hor long before 
he could reach it; but if so, it must in time 
return that way, and, in any case, of all Arabia 
Mount Hor was the one spot where he could be 
sure to gather further information from passing 
caravans. 

He knew his path upon that shifting sand as 
well as an Indian knew his way through the 
trackless forests of New England. With the sun 
and stars above him, any Arab would have scorned 
the idea of being lost in Arabia, and through the 
long night with strong and steady strides Kanana 
pressed onward toward Mount Hor. 

As the harvest moon rose above the desert 
behind him, the Bedouin boy was softly chanting 
from the second sura of A1 Koran: 

“God, there is no God but him; 

The living! The Eternal. 

Slumber doth not overtake him, 

Neither Sleep. 

And upholding all things, 

To him is no burden. 

He is the Lofty and the Great.” 


31 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


His long black shadow fell over the silver 
sand, and, watching it, he chanted the Koran 
again: 

“God is God. Whatever of good betideth 
thee cometh from him. 

“Whatever of evil is thine own doing.” 

Suddenly a speck appeared upon the distant 
horizon. None but the keen eye of a shepherd 
would have seen it, in the night, but Kanana 
watched it as it quivered and wavered, disappear¬ 
ing as it sank into a valley in the rolling sand, 
appearing again, like a dory on the ocean, each 
time a little nearer than before. 

Kanana noted the direction the speck was 
taking, and he made a wide path for it; he 
crouched among the sand-shrubs when it came 
too near. 

First a small party of horsemen passed him, 
the advance guard of a moving tribe. Then came 
the main body of men upon camels and horses; 
but the only sounds were made by the feet of 
the animals and the clanking of the weapons. 
32 


AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 


The she-camels with their young followed; 
then the sheep and goats driven by a few men 
on foot; next, the camels laden with the tents 
and furniture; last of all the women and children 
of the tribe accompanied by another armed escort. 

From all that company there was not a sound 
but of the sand and the trappings. There was 
nothing but shadows, swinging, swaying shad¬ 
ows, moving like phantoms over the white 
sand, as the trailing train went gliding on, in 
that mysterious land of shadows and silhouettes. 

There was nothing in it that was weird to 
Kanana, however. He hid himself simply as a 
precaution. He had often been a part of such a 
caravan, and he knew from experience, that if 
a solitary Arab were found upon the desert, he 
would very quickly be forced to help drive the 
sheep and goats, and kept at it until he could 
make his escape. Any Arab boy would have 
hidden himself. 

Long before Kanana’s next halt the sun was 
pouring down its furious heat. To his great 

33 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


good fortune he came upon a bowlder rising out 
of the sand; there he quickly made a place for 
himself where the sun could not reach him and, 
lying down, slept until night. 

Only one who has walked upon a desert, hour 
after hour, parched with thirst and utterly ex¬ 
hausted in the fierce glare and heat can properly 
appreciate the Bible picture of “the shadow of 
a great rock in a weary land.” 

Had he not found this rock, Kanana would 
simply have dug a hole in the sand and forced 
himself into it. 

Here and there as he pressed on, Kanana saw 
grim skeletons of men and animals as they lay 
whitening among the sand-shrubs, but he paid 
them little attention. Before the sun had set upon 
the second day, he beheld the distant summit of 
Mount Hor cutting sharply into the blue sky. 

The sight renewed his strength. Hour after 
hour he pressed onward, with his eyes fixed 
upon the tomb of Aaron, a white monument 
upon the summit of the mountain, flashing like 
34 


AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 


snow as the moon rose in the clear, blue-black 
sky. 

Kanana did not pause again until he fell upon 
his knees beside the stream which rises in a spring 
upon Mount Hor, to die in the sand, not far from 
its base. He plunged into the water; then, dress¬ 
ing himself again, he lay down upon the bank 
to sleep. He awoke with the first gray lighting 
in the east, when the air of a desert is almost 
cold enough to freeze. 

He had now nothing more to do till he could 
obtain some information from passing caravans. 
It would soon be sunrise, the hour for morning 
prayer, and, to warm himself while he waited, 
he walked along the banks of the stream. They 
were blue as the very sky, with masses of for¬ 
get-me-nots. 

Suddenly Kanana paused. He started back. His 
eyes dilated, and his hand trembled till the shep¬ 
herd’s staff fell, unheeded, to the ground. The 
next moment he dropped to the ground to ex¬ 
amine the place more carefully. 


35 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


What was it? Only some marks upon the 
grass where a caravan had camped. The herbage 
was matted here and there where the camels lay, 
and cropped short in little circles about each spot 
where they had eaten it as far as they could 
reach. 

Caravans were continually resting for the day 
under the shadow of Mount Hor. There was 
nothing remarkable in the fact that a caravan 
had camped there, and had gone. They always 
move at night; not so much because it is cooler 
as because a camel will not eat at night, no matter 
how hungry he may be, and must be given the 
daylight or he will deliberately starve. 

A moment later Kanana was upon his feet 
again with a triumph in his eyes which clearly 
indicated his satisfaction. 

The grass about the spot was unevenly cropped; 
there were straggling spears of green left stand¬ 
ing in the center of each mouthful which the 
camel had taken. Upon one side the bees were 
clustering on the matted grass. A multitude of 
36 


AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 


ants appeared upon the other side. The imprint 
left by the forefoot of the camel showed that it 
had been extended in front of him, instead of 
being bent at the knee and folded beneath him. 

All this meant to the young Arab that the 
camel was old, that it was lame in the left knee, 
that it had lost a front tooth, that its burden 
on one side was honey, on the other the dust 
of river clay, to be used in the manufacture 
of stucco. 

Had one of his father’s camels stood before 
him, Kanana could not have been more sure. 
Nothing more was needed to assure him that 
Raschid Airikat, with the stolen camels, had left 
Mount Hor the night before, upon the trail lead¬ 
ing southward into Arabia. 

His eyes flashed with excitement. “My brother 
and the white camel are not ten hours from here, 
and they are on the road to Mecca or Medina,” he 
exclaimed as his fingers tightened about the staff. 

His white teeth glistened in a smile, as he 
added, “They are mine, or I am a coward!” 


37 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


He stood there motionless for a moment, his 
dark eyes instinctively turning southward. The 
magnitude of his task lay vividly before him. 
He recalled his father’s words: “Thou wisp of 
flax before a fire! Thou reed before a whirl¬ 
wind!” They served to strengthen him. 

The first step which lay before him was enough 
to test the courage of a brave man, and yet it 
was only a step toward a grand destiny. 

Suddenly starting from his revery, Kanana 
exclaimed: 

“ I will do it! or I will consent to be known 
forever as the coward of the Beni Sads!” and 
turning he ran up the rocky sides of old Mount 
Hor, toward the white tomb of Aaron, whence 
he knew he could see far away over the great 
ocean of sand. 

It might be there would yet appear a speck 
upon the distant horizon, to guide him toward 
the retreating caravan 


38 



THE 

PROMISE 

IV 

U P the steep sides of Mount Hot, Kanana 
climbed, without waiting to look for a 
path. He saw nothing, heard nothing. 
He was all eagerness to reach the summit, in 
the faint hope that it might not be too late to 
see the departing caravan of Raschid Airikat. 


39 








THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Unless a camel is fresh, unusually large and 
strong, or constantly urged, it rarely makes more 
than two miles an hour. It was not over ten 
hours since the robber sheik had left the oasis, 
and some of the camels were very old and ex¬ 
hausted. It was a foolish hope, no doubt, and 
yet Kanana hoped that anything so large as a 
great caravan might still be distinguishable. 

Up, up, up he climbed—as fast as hands and 
feet could carry him. He no longer felt the cool 
air of early morning. He no longer looked about 
him to see the new sights of a strange oasis. 

He did not even pause to look away over the 
desert as he climbed. The highest point was 
none too high. He did not care how far he could 
see until he had gained the white tomb of Aaron, 
upon the very crest. 

Had he not been too thoroughly occupied with 
what was above him to notice what transpired 
about him and down below, he would have seen 
five Arab horsemen reach the stream by which 
he slept, almost as he began to climb. 

40 



THE PROMISE 


They were Mohammedan soldiers, thoroughly 
armed for war, and had evidently come from the 
northern borders of Arabia, where the victorious 
Mussulmans were triumphantly planting the 
banner of Islam. 

They had been riding hard, and both men and 
horses were exhausted. They hurried to the 
water. The men hastily ate some food which 
they carried, and tethered their horses in Arab 
fashion, by a chain, one end of which is fastened 
about the forefoot of the animal and the other 
end about the master, to prevent their being 
stolen while the master sleeps. 

The moment this was accomplished, the five 
men rolled themselves in their mantles, covering 
their faces, as well as their bodies, and lay down 
upon the grass to sleep. 

They were skilled in the art of making long 
journeys in the shortest possible time, and were 
evidently upon important business; for an Arab 
is never in haste unless his mission is very im¬ 
portant. 


41 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Before Kanana reached the temple the men 
were soundly sleeping, and the horses, lying 
down to rest themselves, were still eating the 
grass about them, as a camel eats. 

Panting for breath, and trembling in his eager 
haste, Kanana reached the tomb of Aaron: an 
open porch, with white pillars supporting a roof 
of white, like a crown of eternal snow upon the 
summit of Mount Hor. 

Between the snowy pillars Kanana paused. 
One quick glance at the sky gave him the points 
of the compass, and, shading his eyes from the 
glowing east, he looked anxiously to the south 
and west. 

Sand, sand, sand, in billows like great waves 
of an ocean, lay about him in every direction. 
Far away there were low hills, and a semblance 
of green which, to his practiced eye, meant a 
grove of date palms upon the banks of a stream. 

But nowhere, search as he would, was there 
the faintest speck to indicate the caravan. 

He was still anxiously scanning those distant 


42 


THE PROMISE 


hills when the first rays of the rising sun shot 
from the eastern horizon, flashing a halo of glory 
upon the snow-white crown of old Mount Hor, 
before they touched the green oasis lying about 
its base. 

Never, in all the ages, had the sun come up 
out of the Arabian desert to see such a tableau 
as his first bright beams illumined Aaron’s tomb. 

All absorbed in his eager search, Kanana stood 
upon the very edge of the white porch. One 
hand was extended, grasping his shepherd’s staff, 
the other was lifted to shade his eyes. 

In his eagerness to reach forward, one foot was 
far before the other, and the knee was bent, as 
though he were ready to leap down the steep 
declivity before him. 

His turban, a large square piece of cloth, was 
bound about his head with a camel’s-hair cord; 
one comer was thrown back over his forehead, 
and a corner fell over each shoulder, like a cloak. 
His coat was sheepskins, stitched together. Sum¬ 
mer and winter, rain and sunshine, the Bedouin 

43 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


shepherd wears that sheepskin coat, as the best 
protection against both sun and frost. 

His bare feet rested firmly upon the white 
platform, and the arm that held the shepherd’s 
staff was knotted with muscles which a strong 
man might have envied him. 

His beardless face was dark, but not so dark 
as to hide the eager flush which heightened the 
color in his cheeks, and his chest rose and fell 
in deep, quick motions from his rapid climb. 

His lips were parted. His dark eyes flashed, 
while the hand which shaded them stood out 
from his forehead as though trying to carry the 
sight a little farther, that it might pierce the 
defiles of those distant hills and the shadows of 
the date palm groves. 

The sun rose higher, and its full light fell 
across the young Ishmaelite. It was the signal 
for the morning call to prayer, and from the 
minaret of every mosque in the realm of Islam 
was sounding La Illaha il Allah Mahamoud rousol 
il Allah. Kanana did not need to hear the call, 
44 


THE PROMISE 


however. He instantly forgot his mission, and, a 
humble and devout Mohammedan, laid aside his 
staff and reverently faced toward Mecca to repeat 
his morning prayer. 

Standing erect, with his open hands beside his 
head, the palms turned forward, he solemnly be¬ 
gan the Nummee Allah voulhamda. With his hands 
crossed upon his breast he continued. Then he 
placed his hands upon his knees, then sat upon 
the floor. Then with his open hands upon the 
floor he touched his forehead to the platform as 
he repeated the closing words of the prayer. 

In this position he remained for some time, 
whispering a petition of his own for strength 
and courage to carry out the task which he had 
undertaken. 

There was something so solemn and impres¬ 
sive in the death-like stillness of the early morn¬ 
ing, upon that solitary peak, that it almost seemed 
to Kanana that, if he listened, he should hear the 
voice of Allah, answering his prayer. 

Suddenly the silence was broken by a sharp 

45 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


cry, and another and another in quick succession 
mingled with savage yells. 

It was not the voice of Allah, for which he 
had been waiting, and Kanana sprang to his feet 
and looked anxiously about him. 

The mountains of Arabia are not high. Among 
real mountains, Mount Hor would be but a rocky 
hilL Looking down, for the first time, Kanana 
saw the stream below him, in its border of blue 
forget-me-nots, and could clearly distinguish the 
five soldiers who had so quickly fallen asleep 
upon its banks. 

It was a fearful sight which met his eyes. 
The five men were still lying there, but they 
were no longer sleeping. They were dead or 
dying; slain by three Bedouin robbers, who had 
crept upon them for the valuable prize of their 
horses, and who did not dare attempt to steal the 
animals while the masters were alive. 

It was almost the first time that Kanana’s eyes 
had rested upon a scene of blood, common as 
such scenes are among his countrymen, and he 
46 


THE PROMISE 


stood in the porch benumbed with horror, while 
the robbers tore from the bodies about them such 
garments as pleased them; then took their weap¬ 
ons, mounted three of the horses, and leading 
two rode quickly away to the north. 

There was no assistance which Kanana could 
render the unfortunate men. The caravan was 
already a night’s march ahead of him and every 
moment that he lost must be redeemed by hurry¬ 
ing so much the faster under the burning sun, 
over the scorching sand, when, at the best, it was 
doubtful if flesh and blood could stand what must 
be required of it. 

With a shudder he turned from the terrible 
scene and began to descend the mountain. Soon 
he was upon the banks of the stream and passing 
close to the spot where the five bodies were ly¬ 
ing. He would not run, but he hurried on, with 
his eyes fixed upon the ground before him. 

A faint sound caught his ear. He started, 
clutched his staff, and turned sharply about, think¬ 
ing that the robbers had seen him and returned. 

47 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


It was only one of the unfortunate soldiers who 
had been left for dead. He had raised himself 
upon his elbow, and was trying to attract Ka- 
nana’s attention. 

“Water! water! In the name of Allah, give 
me water!” he gasped, and fell back unconscious. 

For a moment Kanana was tempted to hurry 
on. He did not want to go there, any more than 
he wanted to delay his journey; but something 
whispered to him of the promises of the Koran 
to those who show mercy to the suffering; that 
Allah would reward even a cup of water given 
to the thirsty. 

It required no little courage of the Bedouin 
boy, all alone under Mount Hor, but he resolutely 
turned back, filled with water the wooden cup 
which a shepherd always carries at his girdle, and 
poured it down the parched throat of the almost 
insensible man. 

“Bless God for water!” he gasped. “More! 
give me more!” 

Kanana ran to the brook and filled the cup 


48 


THE PROMISE 


again, but the poor man shook his head. It was 
too late. He was dying. 

Suddenly he roused himself. He made a des¬ 
perate struggle to call back his failing senses, and, 
for a moment, threw off the hand of Death. 

He had almost given up, forgetting something 
of great importance. Steadying himself upon 
his elbow, he looked into Kanana’s face and said: 

“You are a beardless youth, but you are an 
Arab. Listen to me. The mighty Prince Con¬ 
stantine, son of the Emperor Heraclius, is soon to 
leave Constantinople, at the head of a vast army 
of Turks and Greeks and Romans, like the leaves 
of the forest and the sand of the desert. He is 
coming to sweep the Arab from the face of the 
earth and the light of the sun. We were bearing 
a letter to the Caliph Omar, who is now at 
Mecca, telling him of the danger and asking help. 
If the letter does not reach him Arabia is lost 
and the Faithful are destroyed. Would you see 
that happen?” 

Too frightened to speak and hardly compre- 

49 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


hending the situation, Kanana simply shook his 
head. 

The man made another effort to overcome the 
stupor that had almost mastered him. He suc¬ 
ceeded in taking from his clothing a letter, sealed 
with the great seal, and gasped: 

“In the name of Allah, will you fly with this 
to the great caliph?” 

Hardly realizing what he said, Kanana solemnly 
repeated: “In the name of Allah, I will.” 

He took the letter and was hiding it in his 
bosom when the soldier grasped the cup of water, 
drank ravenously, and, with the last swallow, let 
the cup fall from lifeless fingers. 

Minute after minute passed, but Kanana did 
not move a muscle. His hand still touched the 
letter which he had placed in his bosom. His 
eyes still rested upon the lips that would never 
speak again. 

His sacred promise had been pledged to fly 
with that letter to the great caliph at Mecca. It 
had been made in the name of Allah. It had 


50 



“IN THE NAME OF ALLAH, I WILL ’’—Page 50 










THE PROMISE 


been given to the man now lying dead before 
him. There was no power that could retract it. 
It must be performed, and until it was performed 
no other consideration could retard his steps or 
occupy his thoughts. 

His lips parted and he muttered, angrily: “Is 
this my reward for having given a cup of water 
to the thirsty?” Then it suddenly occurred to 
him that the caravan which he longed most of 
all to follow was also upon its way southward, 
and that, for the present at least, for either mis¬ 
sion the direction was the same, and the demand 
for haste was great. 

He caught his staff from the ground and set 
his face toward Mecca, pondering upon the dying 
statement of the soldier till word for word it was 
fastened in his memory, and the thought that 
his mission was for Allah and Arabia urged him 
on. 

It was an easy task to follow the trail of the 
caravan. The Bedouin would be a disgrace to the 
desert who could not recognize in the sand the 

51 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


recent footprint of one of his own tribe or of a 
camel with which he was familiar, and who 
could not tell by a footprint whether the man 
or camel who made it carried a burden, often 
what that burden was, always whether he was 
fresh or exhausted, walking leisurely or hurrying. 

So Kanana hurried on, daily reading the news 
of the caravan before him as he went, testing 
his strength to the utmost before he rested, and 
starting again as soon as he was able; over the 
sand and over the hills, through groves and vil¬ 
lages and over sand again; always toward Mecca. 



52 




LED BY 

A WHITE CAMEL 

V 

I N the world-famous city of Mecca, two men 
stood by the arch that leads to the immortal 
Caaba. 

They were engaged in an earnest conversation, 
heedless of everything about them, when the dis¬ 
tant cry of a camel driver sounded on the still air. 

53 



THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Both of the men started and looked at each 
other in surprise. One of them said: 

“A caravan at the gate at this time of day!” 
for it was several hours past midday and a cara¬ 
van, in the ordinary course of things, reaches a 
city gate during the night or very early in the 
morning. 

Arabia was seeing troubled times, and every 
one was on the alert for anything out of the 
accepted rule. 

The camel-driver’s cry was repeated. The first 
speaker remarked: 

“They have left the burdened camels at the 
Moabede gate and are entering the city.” 

With an anxious look upon his face the elder 
of the two replied, “Either they have been hard 
pressed by an enemy or it is important news 
which brings them over the desert in such haste, 
in this insufferable heat.” 

The two men were evidently of great impor¬ 
tance in the holy city. They were surrounded by 
powerful black slaves, who had all that they 
54 


LED BY A WHITE CAMEL 


could do to keep the passers-by from pressing too 
close upon the elder man, in a desire to touch 
the hem of his garment Many, in passing, knelt 
and touched their foreheads to the ground. Thus 
they waited the coming caravan. 

The first camel of an important caravan is led 
by a man who walks before it, through the 
narrow streets of a city, and his cry is to warn 
the crowd to clear the way; there being no side¬ 
walks, and, indeed, but very little street. 

“There it comes,” said the younger of the two, 
as the long line of drowsy camels appeared, swing¬ 
ing, swinging, swinging along the narrow street 

“Led by a white camel,” added the elder, and 
they both looked down the street. 

The lead-camel was larger than the rest—much 
larger, and very much lighter colored; a sort of 
dingy white, like a sheep before shearing. The 
chief of the caravan sat upon his back, as un¬ 
mindful of everything as though he were still 
upon the trackless sand. 

It is not impossible that the sheik was really 

55 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


sleeping, and unconsciously grasping his ugly 
lance, while his Damascus blade hung ready by 
his side. 

He roused in a moment, however, for with 
many a grunt and groan the great, ungainly, and 
yet very stately, ships of the desert came slowly 
and drowsily to anchor in the court before the 
Caaba. 

"Haji” a naked little urchin muttered, look¬ 
ing up from his play; but he should have known 
better. Haji means pilgrims, and these were no 
pilgrims. 

There are seasons when this city is one mass 
of humanity. Haji by hundreds and thousands 
throng the narrow streets, but these are Bedouins 
of the desert, bound upon some other mission than 
worshiping before the Caaba, kissing the Black 
Stone, or drinking the holy water of Zemzem. 

The leader of the white camel gave a peculiar 
pull to the rope hanging over his shoulder, at¬ 
tached to the animal’s bridle, and uttered a short, 
sharp word of command. 

56 


LED BY A WHITE CAMEL 


Slowly, very slowly, the dignified, dingy crea¬ 
ture, towering high above him, acknowledged 
the receipt of the order, but he gave no evidence 
that he was making any arrangements to obey. 

His response was simply a deliberate grunt and 
a weird and melancholy wail that came gurgling 
out of his long, twisting throat. He would not 
have hurried himself one atom, even for the sheik 
upon his back. 

A white camel is to the Arab what a white 
buffalo is to the Indian and a white elephant to 
the Ceylonese, and he fully appreciates his im¬ 
portance. 

He deliberately turned his woolly head quite 
about till his great brown eyes, with the droop¬ 
ing lids almost closed over them, could most con¬ 
veniently look back along the line of lank, inferior 
camels, and gaunt and weather-beaten drome¬ 
daries, which had patiently followed him, day 
after day, to the temple court of immortal Mecca. 

He was so long about it that the leader re¬ 
peated the command, and very slowly the camel 

57 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


brought his head back again, till his languid eyes 
looked drowsily down, in a sort of scornful 
charity, upon the insignificant mortal at the other 
end of his halter. 

He had stood in the court of Mecca long be¬ 
fore that man was born and would doubtless 
guide caravans to the same spot long after he 
was buried and forgotten. 

“You may be in haste, but I am not,” he seemed 
to say, and dreamily turned his eyes toward the 
black-curtained Caaba, as if to see how it had 
fared since his last visit. 

That Caaba, the Holy of Holies of the Mussul¬ 
man, is the most revered and possibly the most 
venerable of all the sacred buildings on the earth; 
but the gentle, wistful eyes of the white camel 
were more practically drawn toward two or three 
date-palm-trees then growing beside it. When 
he had satisfied himself that the only green thing 
in sight was quite beyond his reach, he deliber¬ 
ately lowered his head, changed his position a 
little, and with another grunt and another mel- 
58 


LED BY A WHITE CAMEL 


ancholy wail sank upon his knees, then upon his 
haunches. With a deep sigh he lifted his head 
again still high above the head of his driver, and 
his drowsy eyes seemed saying to him: 

“Poor man! I kept you waiting, didn’t I?” 

Then he quickly turned his head to the op¬ 
posite side, deliberately poking his nose into the 
passing throng, till, with a grunt of recognition, 
it touched the garment of one who was hurry¬ 
ing on among the crowd. 

It was evidently a Bedouin, but the wings of 
his turban were drawn together in front, so that 
no one could see his face. He responded to the 
greeting of the white camel, however, by laying 
his hand upon the creature’s nose as he passed. 
It was a motion which no one noticed, and a 
moment later he was out of sight. 

He was following a boy who had led him di¬ 
rectly to the arch, where the boy paused, pointed 
to the elder of the two men standing there, 
briefly observing: 

“It is he.” 


59 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


The Bedouin paused for a moment, as if strug¬ 
gling to collect his thoughts, then hurrying for¬ 
ward was the next to prostrate himself before 
the venerable man. As he rose he handed him a 
package, simply observing: 

“A message to the Caliph Omar” 

The great caliph quickly broke the seal and 
read; then, turning to the bearer, asked sharply, 
“And who art thou?” 

“I am Kanana, son of the sheik of the Beni 
Sads,” replied the Bedouin boy, letting the wings 
of his turban fall apart that Omar might see his face. 

“A beardless youth!” exclaimed the caliph. 
“And dost thou know aught of the import of 
this letter?” 

Kanana repeated the dying words of the Arab 
soldier, which had so often escaped his lips as he 
urged his weary feet toward Mecca. 

“ Tis even so,” replied the caliph. “And how 
came living man to trust a boy like you to come 
alone, through the streets of Mecca, with such 
an errand?” 


60 


LED BY A WHITE CAMEL 


“I came alone with the letter from the oasis 
at Mount Horreplied Kanana, straightening 
himself up, with very pardonable pride, before 
the astonished eyes of the great caliph. 

Then he related, briefly, how the letter came 
into his keeping, and the dangers and escapes of 
the three long weeks during which he carried 
it in his bosom; each rising and setting sun find¬ 
ing it a little nearer to its destination. 

“Thou art a brave youth,” said the caliph, “a 
worthy son of the Terror of the Desert. Would 
to Allah that every Arab had thy heart, and Her- 
aclius himself, with all the world behind him, 
could not move the Faithful from their desert 
sands. And they shall not be moved! No! By 
the beard of the Prophet, they shall not be moved. 
Hear me, my son; I will see more of thee. This 
is no place for conversation where the wind 
bloweth into what ears it listeth. One of my 
slaves shall conduct you to my house. There I 
will meet you presently. Go, and Allah go with 
you.” 


61 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Indicating the slave who should take Kanana 
in charge, the Caliph Omar turned abruptly away 
and showed the letter to the man with whom 
he had been conversing. 



62 




KAN ANA 

AND THE CALIPH 

VI 

G UIDED by the black slave, Kanana passed 
- out again under the arch, and walked 
the streets of Mecca, caring less and 
thinking less concerning what transpired about 
him than any one, before or since, who for the 
first time stood in the holy city. 


63 



THE LANCE OF KANANA 


He found the narrow streets densely crowded. 
Soldiers and merchants, Bedouins and city 
Arabs mingled with an array of every tribe 
Arabia could furnish. There were venders of all 
things pertaining to the necessities or luxuries 
of life; water-carriers with goatskins on their 
shoulders; fruit-criers with wooden trays upon 
their heads; donkeys laden with cumbersome 
baskets, beneath which they were almost lost 
to sight; camels carrying packs of a thousand 
pounds weight upon their backs, as though they 
were bundles of feathers; everything hustling 
and jostling, men and boys shouting and push¬ 
ing for the right of way. 

They all turned out as best they could, how¬ 
ever, for the savage black slave of the great 
caliph, and by keeping close behind him Kanana 
always found an open space where he could 
walk without fighting for room. 

It was almost the first experience of the Be¬ 
douin boy in real city life, and the very first time 
that his bare feet had ever touched the beaten 
64 


KANANA AND THE CALIPH 


sand of the unpaved streets of his most sacred 
Mecca. 

He turned from the arch, however, without 
once glancing at the black-curtained Caaba, the 
Beitullah, or House of God, toward which three 
times a day he had turned his face in reverent 
devotion, ever since he had learned to pray. 

He followed the black slave onward through 
the streets, without so much as looking at the 
walls of the houses that crowded close on either 
hand. 

He had fulfilled his vow. The packet he had 
sacredly guarded through many a hardship and 
danger and narrow escape was safely delivered. 
Now he was free to carry on the work for 
which he left the perch and the birds in the 
grain-field of the Beni Sad. 

Sometimes he thought of the black slave be¬ 
fore him, and wondered if, after all, he was quite 
free. And the thought troubled him. 

It seemed as though long years had passed 
since the day when his father met him with the 

65 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


news of Raschid Airikat’s capture of his brother. 
He had suffered privations enough for a lifetime 
since then. More than once his life had hung by 
a slender thread. He could hardly imagine him¬ 
self again sitting up on the perch, frightening 
the birds away, his life had so entirely changed; 
his determination to keep the vow he made his 
father had grown stronger every day; only he 
realized more the magnitude of the task he had 
undertaken; and he appreciated his fathers words: 
“Thou wisp of straw before a fire! Thou reed 
before a whirlwind P Still he gathered hope, 
because he was beginning to understand him¬ 
self. 

The dangers and hardships of one enterprise 
he had met and overcome, and under the very 
shadow of the Caaba, the great caliph of Mecca 
had called him brave. 

Now he was eager for the next. There was 
no vital need of another interview with the 
caliph, and Kanana thought that if he could only 
escape from the black slave, by darting into a 
66 


KAN ANA AND THE CALIPH 


crowded alley, he could go at once about his 
own important business. 

For the first time Kanana looked about him. 
At the moment there was no opportunity, and 
while he watched for one, the slave turned 
suddenly into a great gate, crossed a court paved 
with limestone, lifted a reed curtain, entered one 
of the most substantial stone structures of Mecca, 
and indicated to Kanana the apartment in which 
he was to wait for the caliph. It was too late 
to escape. With all the patience and dogged 
submission to destiny so strongly developed in 
the Bedouin, Kanana sat down upon a rug. There 
were luxurious ottomans about the room, and 
divans taken from the palaces of Persian princes, 
but the Bedouin boy preferred the desert seat. 
Much as though he were still upon the perch, 
he laid his staff beside him and buried his face 
in his hands. The magnificence in this chamber 
of Omar’s official residence only disturbed his 
thoughts. 

He became so deeply buried in his plans that 

67 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


he had entirely forgotten where he was, when 
the rattle of the reed curtain aroused him and, 
starting from his dream, he found the great 
caliph entering. 

Reverently touching his forehead to the floor, 
Kanana remained prostrate until the caliph was 
seated. Then he rose and stood leaning upon his 
staff while the old ruler silently surveyed him. 
It seemed to Kanana that his very heart was 
being searched by those grave and piercing eyes. 

Upon the shoulders of the Caliph Omar rested 
the fate of Islam for future ages; his word was 
law wherever Mohammed was revered. He could 
have little time to waste upon a shepherd boy; 
yet he sat for a long while, silently looking at 
Kanana. When he spoke, it was only to bid him 
repeat, at greater length, the story of how he came 
by the letter and how he brought it to Mecca, 

“My son,” he said, when Kanana had finished, 
“ thou hast done what many a brave man would 
not have ventured to attempt. Ask what reward 
thou wilt of me.” 


68 


KANANA AND THE CALIPH 


“I would have the blessing of the Caliph 
Omar,” Kanana replied. 

“That thou shall have, my son; and camels, 
or sheep, or gold. Ask what thou wilt.” 

“ I have no use for anything. I ask thy bless¬ 
ing, my father, and thy word to bid me go ” 
“Thou art a strange lad,” replied the caliph. 
“Thou art like, and yet unlike the Terror of the 
Desert. I command thee, my son, say what I can 
best do for thee.” 

“Give me thy blessing, then let me go, my 
father,” repeated Kanana, kneeling. “More than 
that, if I took it, I should leave at thy gate” 
Omar smiled gravely at the boy’s obstinacy. 
“If I can do nothing for thee, there is yet 
something which thou canst do for me. Kahled 
is the greatest general who fights for the Prophet. 
He will soon reach Bashra, with thirty thousand 
warriors. He will turn to enter Persia, but these 
letters must reach him, with my orders that he 
go again to Syria. Bashra is three weeks from 
here, and a company of soldiers will start to-night 

69 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


to carry the messages, while I send far and wide 
for the Faithful to join him. It would be well, 
my son, for thee to go with the soldiers, to give 
the story to Kahled by word of mouth ” 

“The way is hard. The sand is deep and dry 
between Mecca and Bashra,” said Kanana. The 
caliph looked in some surprise upon the hardy 
Bedouin boy. 

“Hardship should not be hard to thee; but 
thou shall be carried as one whom the caliph 
would honor.” 

“The way is dangerous. Robbers and hostile 
tribes are like the sand about Bashra,” added Ka¬ 
nana, who had often heard of the countries along 
the eastern borders of Arabia. 

Surprise became astonishment. The caliph ex¬ 
claimed: 

“Thou! son of the Terror of the Desert, speak¬ 
ing of danger?” 

“My father, I spoke for thy soldiers,” replied 
Kanana, quickly. “Before they reach the sands 
of Bashra they will be with the five who started 
70 


KANANA AND THE CALIPH 


with this letter. Dost thou believe that Ka- 
nana spoke in fear or cowardice? If so, give him 
the letters, and with thy blessing and the help 
of Allah, he will deliver them to thy Kahled, 
though every river run with fire, and the half of 
Arabia stand to prevent him!” 

“Beardless youth!” cried the caliph. “I am too 
old for mockery.” 

“My father, without a beard I brought that 
letter here, and He who guarded me will guard 
me still” 

“ Wouldst thou dare to go without an escort?” 

“I would rather have a sword I could not lift 
than have an escort,” replied Kanana. 

“By the beard of the Prophet, my son, there is 
both foolishness and wisdom in thy words. Thou 
shall take the messages by one route, and by 
another I will send the soldiers with copies. It 
may be that Allah guides thy tongue. When 
wilt thou start?” 

“Now,” replied Kanana.” 

“That was well spoken,” said the caliph. 

71 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


“What camels and servants shall be provided?” 

“My father,” said Kanana, “as I came a little 
way with the caravan which arrived to-day, I 
noted the white camel that took the lead. I 
never saw so great power of speed and endur¬ 
ance in a camel of the plain. The man who led 
him knew him well and was easily obeyed. I 
would have the two, none other, and the swiftest 
dromedary in Mecca, with grain for fourteen 
days.” 

The caliph shook his head: “It will be twenty 
days and more.” 

“My father, the burden must be light that 
the sand lie loose beneath their feet, and small, 
that it tempt no envious eye.” Then, in the 
direct simplicity resulting from his lonely life, 
Kanana added, “If it is a three weeks journey for 
others, in fourteen days thy messages shall be 
delivered.” 

The caliph summoned an officer, saying, “Go 
to the caravan at the Moabede Gate. Say that 
Omar requires the white camel and the man who 
72 


KANANA AND THE CALIPH 


leads it; none other. Bid Ebno’l Hassan prepare 
my black dromedary and food for the two for 
fourteen days. Have everything at the gate, 
ready to start, in half an hour.” Then to a slave 
he added, “Give to the son of the Terror of the 
Desert the best that the house affords to eat and 
drink.” 

Without another word the caliph left the 
room to prepare the messages. The slave hurried 
to produce a sumptuous feast. The officer left 
the house to execute the orders of the man 
whose word was law. 

Alone, Kanana sat down again upon the mat 
and buried his face in his hands, as though he 
were quietly preparing himself to sleep. 

Only a whisper escaped his lips. The words 
were the same which he had angrily spoken 
under the shadow of Mount Hor, but the voice 
was very different: “This is my great reward for 
giving a cup of water to the thirsty. La III aha 
il Allah!” The slave placed the food beside him, 
but he did not notice it. Not until the caliph 

73 


THE LANCE OF KAN ANA 


entered again did he suddenly look up, exclaiming, 
“This shepherd’s coat would not be fitting the 
dignity of the white camel. I must have an abbe 
to cover it, and a mantle to cover my face, that 
Mecca may not see a beardless youth going upon 
a mission for the great caliph.” 

They were quickly provided. The camel and 
its driver were at the gate, with the black drome¬ 
dary. All was ready, and with the mantle drawn 
over his beardless face, and the abbe covering his 
sheepskin coat, Kanana knelt and received the 
blessing of the Caliph Omar. 

As he rose from his knees, the caliph handed 
him, first the letters, which Kanana placed in his 
bosom, and next a bag of gold which Kanana 
held in his hand for an instant; then, scornfully, 
he threw it upon the mat, remarking, “My father, 
I have already received a richer reward than all 
the gold of Mecca.” 

The caliph only smiled: “Let each one dance 
according to the music which he hears. My son, 
I see the future opening before thee. This is not 
74 


KANANA AND THE CALIPH 


thy last mission. I read it in thy destiny that 
thou wilt succeed, and succeed again, until the 
name of Kanana be written among the greatest 
of those who have lifted the lance for Allah and 
Arabia. Go now, and God go with thee.” 



75 




A PRIZE 

WORTH WINNING 

VII 

T HERE was a group of several people stand¬ 
ing about the caliph’s gate as Kanana 
emerged. They were apparently waiting, 
in careless curiosity, to see the white camel start, 
and learn what they could of what was going on 
in official departments. 

76 





A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


The information they received was very 
meager, yet it proved sufficient for more than 
one. They saw the white camel rise, with the 

veiled messenger of Omar upon its back. As the 
driver looked up to receive his first command 
their necks were bent in a way that betrayed their 
eagerness to hear. Only one word was spoken, 
however. It was “Tayf,” the name of a city a 
short distance to the east of Mecca. 

The camel-drivers cry sounded again through 
the streets, but the twilight shadows were gather¬ 
ing. There were few abroad, and the cries were 
not so loud or so often repeated as in the after¬ 
noon. When they ceased altogether, Kanana had 
turned his back upon Mecca forever. 

The night wind blew cool and refreshing from 
the surrounding hills as the little caravan moved 
out upon the plain, but Kanana was ill at ease. 

It was still as death in the valley. Far as the 
eye could penetrate the darkness they were all 
alone, except for five horsemen who left the gate 
of Mecca not long after the white camel, and 

77 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


were now riding slowly toward Tayf, a short 
distance behind it. 

Ever and again Kanana looked back at them. 
The faint shadows, silently moving onward 
through the gloom, were always there; never 
nearer; never out of sight. 

Leaning forward, he spoke in a low voice to 
the driver, “You walk as though you were weary. 
The dromedary was brought for you. Mount it, 
and follow me/’ 

“Master,” replied the driver, “the white camel 
is obstinate. He will only move for one whom 
he knows well.” 

“You speak to the wind,” muttered Kanana. 
“Do as I bid thee. Hear my words. Yonder 
black dromedary has the fleetest foot in Mecca. 
He is the pride of the Caliph Omar. Mount him, 
and if you can overtake me while I drive the 
white camel, you shall throw the dust of the 
desert in the face of Raschid Airikat, and have 
the white camel for your own.” 

The driver started back, and stood staring at the 
78 


A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


veiled messenger of Omar. The word, “ Mount! ” 
was sternly repeated. Then he quickly obeyed, 
evidently bewildered, but well satisfied that he 
would have an easy task before him, from the 
moment the white camel realized that a stranger 
was in command. 

Kanana spoke, and the camel started. The 
dromedary moved forward close behind it with¬ 
out a word from the driver. The horsemen had 
approached no nearer while they waited, though 
Kanana had purposely given them time enough 
to pass, had they not halted when he halted. 
They were still five silent shadows upon the 
distant sand. 

“Faster,” said Kanana, and the long legs of the 
white camel swung out a little farther over the 
sand and moved more rapidly, in response. 

The dromedary immediately quickened its pace 
without urging, and, a moment later, from far 
in the distance, the night wind brought the 
sound of horses’ hoofs through the silent valley. 

It was very faint, but distinct enough to indi- 

79 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


cate that the shadows behind them had broken 
into a canter. 

The camel-driver gave little heed to his sur¬ 
roundings. He was too thoroughly engrossed in 
the prospect of owning the white camel to care 
who might be coming or going in a way as safe 
as that from Tayf to Mecca. 

Kanana, however, who could walk through 
the streets of the holy city without so much as 
knowing what the houses were made of, would 
have heard the wings of a night-moth, passing 
him, or seen a sand-bush move, a quarter of a mile 
away. 

His life as a shepherd had, after all, not been 
wasted. 

“Faster,”said Kanana,touching the camels neck 
with his shepherd’s staff, and without even the 
usual grunt of objection, the animal obeyed. The 
sand began to fly from his great feet as they 
rested upon it for an instant, then left it far 
behind; the Bedouin boy sat with eyes fixed on 
the path before him, and his head bent so that 
80 



“FASTER,” SAID KAN AN A —Page SO 







A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


he could catch the faintest sounds coming from 
behind. The mantle that had covered his face 
fell loosely over his shoulder. 

The dromedary lost a little ground for a 
moment, but gathering himself together, easily 
made it up. The driver was too sure of the final 
result to urge him unduly at the start. Soon 
enough the white camel would rebel of his own 
accord, and till then it was quite sufficient to 
keep pace with him. 

The sound of horses’ hoofs became sharper 
and more distinct, and Omar’s messenger knew 
that the five shadows were being pressed to 
greater speed, and were drawing nearer. 

“Faster!” said Kanana, and the white camel 
broke into a run, swinging in rapid motions 
from side to side, as two feet upon one side, then 
two on the other were thrown far in front of 
him and, in an instant, left as far hehind. 

Still the dromedary made light work of keep¬ 
ing close upon his track, evidently realizing what 
was expected of him; but the driver saw with 

81 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


dismay how quickly the camel responded to the 
word of his rider, how easily the man sat upon 
the swaying back—how carefully he selected the 
best path for the animal, and how skillfully he 
guided him so that he could make the best speed 
with the least exertion. 

Many a night Kanana had run unsaddled camels 
about the pastures of the Beni Sads, guarding the 
sleeping sheep and goats, little dreaming for what 
he was being educated. 

The sound of horses’ hoofs grew fainter. They 
were losing ground, but now and then the listen¬ 
ing ear caught the sharp cry of an Arab horse¬ 
man urging his animal to greater speed. 

“They are in earnest,” muttered the Bedouin 
boy, “but they will not win the race.” 

“Faster!” said Kanana; the camel’s head 
dropped till his neck lost its graceful curve, and 
the great white ship of the desert seemed almost 
flying over the billowy sand. 

For a moment the dromedary dropped behind. 
The driver had to use the prod and force him to 
82 



A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


the very best that was in him, before he was 
able to regain the lost ground. 

The sound of hoofs could no longer be heard, 
and Kanana was obliged to listen with the ut¬ 
most care to catch the faintest echo of a distant 
voice. 

“They are doing their best and are beaten, but 
we can do still better,” he said to himself with 
a deep sigh of relief, as he watched the desert 
shrubs fly past them in fleeting shadows, scud¬ 
ding over the silver-gray sand. 

The music of the sand, as it flew from the 
camel’s feet and fell like hail upon the dry leaves 
of the desert shrubs, was a delightful melody, 
and hour after hour they held the rapid pace; 
over low hills and sandy plains; past the mud 
village and the well that marks the resting- 
place for caravans, a night’s journey from Mecca, 
without a sign of halting; and on and on, the 
dromedary always just so far behind, always doing 
his best to come nearer. 

If by urging he was brought a little closer to 

83 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


the camel, the driver heard that low word, 
“Faster!” and in spite of him the camel gained 
again. Would he never stop? 

The sounds from behind had long been lost 
when, far in advance, appeared the regular cara¬ 
van from Tayf. They approached it like the 
wind. Only the mystic salaam of the desert was 
solemnly exchanged, then, in a moment, the trail¬ 
ing train as it crept westward was left, disap¬ 
pearing in the darkness behind them. 

When it was out of sight the white camel 
suddenly changed its course, turning sharply to 
the north of east and striking directly over the 
desert, away from the hills and the beaten track 
to Tayf which he had been following. 

The driver could not imagine that such a man 
as sat upon the white camel had lost his way. 
He silently followed till they passed a well that 
marked the second night’s journey from Mecca 
toward Persia. 

The driver and dromedary would very willingly 
have stopped here; but the camel glided onward 
84 


A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 


before them through the changing shadows of 
the night, as though it were some phantom, and 
not a thing of flesh and blood. 

By dint of urging, the driver brought the 
dromedary near enough to call: 

“Master, we are not upon the road to Tayf.” 

“No,” said Kanana, but the camel still went on. 

Driven to desperation, as the eastern sky was 
brightening, the driver called again: 

“Master, you will kill the camel!” 

“Not in one night,” said Kanana; “but if you 
value your own life, come on!” 

Faster still and faster the white camel swept 
toward the glowing east, but the dromedary had 
done his best. He could not do better. 

More and more he fell behind, and in spite of 
every effort of the driver, the pride of the caliph 
was beaten. 

Fainter and fainter grew the outline of the 
white camel against the morning sky, ever swing¬ 
ing, swinging, swinging, over the silver-gray 
sea of desert sand, with a motion as regular and 

85 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


firm as though it had started but an hour before. 

As the red disc of the fiery sun rose out of the 
desert, however, the driver saw the camel pause, 
turn half about, till his huge outline stood out 
in bold relief against the sky, and then lie down. 

Quickly Kanana dismounted. He caressed the 
camel for a moment, whispering, “We are two 
days and a half from Mecca! Thou hast done 
better than I hoped. Thou didst remember me 
yesterday in the temple court To-night thou 
hast cheerfully given every atom of thy strength 
to help me. To-morrow we shall be far apart. 
Allah alone knows for what or for how long; 
but if we ever meet again thou wilt remember 
me. Yes, thou wilt greet thy Kanana.” 

The boy’s dark eyes were bright with tears as 
he gave the camel the best of the food provided 
for him; then, with sand instead of water perform¬ 
ing the morning ablution, he faced toward Mecca. 

When the dromedary and his rider reached 
the spot, the veiled messenger of Omar was 
solemnly repeating his morning prayer. 

86 



TO SEEK 
THE BENI SADS 

VIII 

A LL in vain the camel driver sought to obtain 
/■A one glimpse beneath the mantle, to see 
JL JL the face of the caliph’s messenger or to 
learn anything of their destination. 

He prepared their very frugal breakfast with¬ 
out a fire, and, when it was eaten, in the humble, 

87 







THE LANCE OF KANANA 


reproachful tone of one who felt himself un¬ 
justly suspected, he said: 

“My master, why didst thou deceive me, 
saying we should go to Tayf? Didst thou think 
that I would not willingly and freely lead the 
white camel anywhere, to serve the great caliph?” 

w There were other ears than yours to hear,” 
replied Kanana. 

“There were only beggars at the gate, my 
master. Dost thou believe I would be treacher¬ 
ous to a servant of Omar and the Prophet?” 

“I believe that every child of Ishmael will 
serve himself,” replied Kanana; “but that had 
nothing to do with what I said. Before we 
start to-night, I will lay out your path before you, 
to the very end. As for the beggars, where were 
your senses? For three days, in disguise, I jour¬ 
neyed with the caravan of Raschid Airikat, as it 
came to Mecca. I saw in him a treacherous man, 
and when he yielded to a command he must 
obey and gave me the white camel and his driver, 
I knew that he would take them back again by 
88 


TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 


stealth and treachery, if he were able to. Have 
I no eyes, that I should spend three days with 
the caravan and then not recognize the servants 
of Airikat, though they were dressed as beggars 
and slunk away, with covered faces, into the 
shadows of the caliph’s gate? They did not cover 
their feet, and by their feet I knew them, even 
when they deceived you, one of their own. To 
them I said, ‘Go, tell your master that his white 
camel is on the way to Tayf/ ” 

“My master,” said the driver, respectfully,“the 
sheik Airikat is as devout as he is treacherous 
and brave. He gave the sacred camel and thy 
servant willingly, at the command of Omar, for 
the service of Allah and Arabia. I do not think 
he would deal treacherously.” 

Kanana did not reply, for far away over the 
desert, to the east, there was a little speck of 
dark, like a faint shadow, upon the sand. He 
sat in silence watching it through the folds of 
his mantle, as it grew larger and larger, and a 
long caravan approached. 


89 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


The camels were worn out from along journey. 
Their heads hung down, and their feet dragged 
languidly over the sand. Their slow progress 
had belated them, and the sun would be several 
hours above the desert when they reached the 
oasis by the well, which the two had passed 
before daylight. 

As they drew nearer it could easily be seen 
that the camels bore no burdens but necessary 
food, in sacks that were nearly empty, and that 
their riders were savage men from the eastern 
borders of Arabia. 

“Master, do they see us?” muttered the driver. 

“They have eyes,” replied Kanana. And they 
had. A fresh dromedary and a white camel alone 
upon the desert, were a tempting prize. 

They evidently determined to appropriate 
them; for, leaving the main body of the caravan 
standing in the path, twenty or more turned 
suddenly, and came directly toward them. 

“Master, we must fly from them,” whispered 
the driver. 

90 


TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 


“If they were behind us I would fly,” replied 
Kanana, “for every step would be well taken; 
but my path lies yonder.” He pointed directly 
toward the caravan. “And I would not turn from 
it though devils instead of men were in the way.” 

“ It is the will of Allah. We are lost,” muttered 
the camel-driver, and his arms dropped sullenly 
upon his knees, in the dogged resignation to fate 
so characteristic of the Bedouin. 

Kanana made no reply, but, repeating from 
the Koran, “ ‘ Whatever of good betideth thee 
cometh from Him,’ ” he rose and walked slowly 
to where the white camel was lying. 

Upon the high saddle, which had not yet 
been removed, hung the inevitable lance and 
sword, placed there by the officer of the caliph. 

Leaning back against the saddle to await the 
approach of the caravan, the Bedouin boy threw 
his right hand carelessly across the hilt of the 
Damascus blade, exposing, almost to the shoulder, 
the rounded muscles of the powerful arm of— 
a shepherd lad. 


91 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


The caravan drew nearer and finally halted 
when the leader was less than ten paces from 
the white camel. 

His envious eyes had been gloating over the 
tempting prize as he approached; but gradually 
they became fastened upon that hand and arm, 
while the fingers that were playing gently upon 
the polished hilt seemed to beckon him on to 
test the gleaming blade beneath. 

He could not see the beardless face, protected 
by the mantle. How could he know that that 
hand had never drawn a sword? 

The whole appearance indicated a man with¬ 
out one thought of fear, and the savage chief 
realized that, before the white camel became his 
prize, some one beside its present owner would 
doubtless pay a dear price for it. 

He was still determined to possess it, but the 
silent figure demanded and received respect from 
him. 

Instead of the defiant words which were upon 
his tongue, he pronounced the desert greeting. 
92 



THE SILENT FIGURE DEMANDED RESPECT —Page 92 












TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 


Kanana returned the salutation, and immedi¬ 
ately asked, “Did the dust from Kahled’s host 
blow over you when your foot was on the sand 
of Bashra?” 

The sheik drew back a little. It was a slight 
but very suggestive motion, speaking volumes 
to the keen eye of the Bedouin boy. He had 
been leaning forward before, more than is natural 
even to one tired out with sitting upon a camels 
back. It was as if in his eagerness he was reach¬ 
ing forward to grasp the prize. Now he seemed 
suddenly to have lost that eagerness. 

Quickly, Kanana took advantage of the hint. 
He drew from his bosom the letter of the caliph, 
sealed with the great seal of Mohammed, which 
every Mussulman could recognize, and calmly 
holding it plainly in view, he continued: 

“The beak of the vulture has whitened, in¬ 
stead of the bones he would have plucked. The 
tooth of the jackal is broken, and not the flesh 
he would have torn. Raschid Airikat is neither 
at Damascus nor Mecca. To-morrow morning 

93 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


he will be at Tayf. He would have you meet 
him there. Say to him, ‘The fool hath eaten 
his own folly. The veiled messenger of the 
Prophet, sitting upon the sacred camel, glides 
with the night wind into the rising sun; for the 
fire is lighted in Hejaz that at Bashra shall cause 
the camels’ necks to shine.’ ” 

A decided change came over the savage face 
of the Arab sheik. He sat in silence for a moment, 
then, without a word, drove the prod into his 
camel. 

There was a grunt and a gurgling wail, and 
the tired animal was moving on, followed by all 
the rest. 

Kanana and his camel-driver were left alone. 
When they were well out of hearing the driver 
prostrated himself before Kanana, touching his 
forehead to the ground, and asked: 

“Master, who was that sheik, with all his 
warriors, and who art thou that they should 
cower before thy word?’ 

“I am no one to receive your homage. Stand 


94 


TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 


upon your feet! ” almost shouted Kanana. “I never 
saw nor heard of them until to-day.” 

He breathed a deep, quivering sigh, and leaned 
heavily upon the saddle; for every muscle in his 
body shook and trembled as the result of what 
had seemed so calm and defiant. He tried to 
replace the letter in his bosom, but his hand 
trembled so that he was obliged to wait. 

“Thou knewest that he was of the tribe of 
Raschid Airikat, and that he came from Bashra,” 
said the driver. 

“ I knew nothing,” replied Kanana, petulantly, 
in the intense reaction. “How long have you 
been a man, well taught in killing other men, 
not to see what any cowardly shepherd boy could 
read? Were not their lances made of the same 
peculiar wood; and their camel saddles, were 
they not the same, stained with the deep dye of 
Bashra? Who should come out of the rising 
sun, with his camel licking the desert sand, if 
he came not from Bashra? Who should be 
going toward Mecca at this season, without a 

95 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


burdened camel in his caravan, if he went not 
to meet his chief for war? Why did Airikat 
crowd his caravan, day and night, if he expected 
no one?” 

“But, master, Airikat is at Mecca, not at Tayf,” 
said the camel driver. 

“Bedouin, where are your eyes and ears?” ex¬ 
claimed Kanana, scornfully. “Your paltry beggars 
at the caliph's gate carried my message swiftly. 
We had not left the gate of Mecca out of 
sight when on the road behind us came Airikat 
and four followers. While you were struggling 
to reach the white camel, they did their best to 
overtake us both, but we outstripped them. We 
kept upon the way till we had passed the nightly 
caravan. They would have to rest their horses 
at the well, and the caravan would halt there, 
too. They would inquire for us, and the caravan 
would answer, c We passed the white camel run¬ 
ning like the wind toward Tayf.' Enough. Airi¬ 
kat with his horsemen cannot reach there before 
the next sunrise, and when he learns the truth 
96 


TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 


he will be five days behind us. From him and 
yonder caravan by the help of Allah we are safe. 
If you would learn a lesson, by the way, let it be 
this: that man can conquer man without a sword 
or lance. Sleep on it.” 

Setting the example, Kanana removed the 
camel’s saddle, fastened his hind foot to his 
haunch with the twisted rope so that he could 
not rise, and sank upon the sand beside him, 
laying his head upon the creature’s neck. 

The last words which he heard from his driver 
were: “Master, thou art mightier than Airikat 
and all his warriors.” 

The sun beat fiercely down all day upon his 
resting-place; but Kanana’s sleep was sweeter 
than if the cool starlight had been over him, or 
a black tent of the Beni Sads; because, for that 
one day at least, his head was pillowed upon the 
white camel’s neck. 

It was late in the afternoon before he woke, 
and the sun was setting when the little caravan 
was again prepared to start. 


97 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


They were ready to mount when the driver 
came to the white camel. He laid his hand upon 
the dingy haunch, and said, in a voice that was 
strangely pleading for a fierce Bedouin: 

“Master do not crowd him over-hard to-night. 
He obeys too willingly. He is tired from a long 
journey. It is four weeks since he has rested. I 
would rather you would kill me than the white 
camel.” 

Kanana thought for a moment, then taking 
his shepherd’s staff from the saddle, he replied: 

“You can tell better than I how he should be 
driven. Mount him, and I will ride the dromedary.” 

To the driver this was only Arab sarcasm, and 
he hesitated till Kanana silently pointed his staff 
toward the saddle, and the driver was more afraid 
to refuse than to obey. 

Kanana turned and mounted the dromedary. 

As the camel rose to his feet, a strange tempta¬ 
tion sent the blood tingling to the drivers finger¬ 
tips. 

The dromedary was unarmed. The messenger 
98 


TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 


of Omar held only a shepherds staff. Almost 
unconsciously his hand clutched the hilt of the 
Damascus blade, betraying the fact that it was 
better used to holding such a thing than the 
rope that led the white camel through Mecca. 

Quickly the driver looked back, to see Kanana 
quietly watching him. Instantly his hand dropped 
the hilt, but it was too late. Scornfully Kanana 
said: 

“Lo! every child of IshmaeL from the devout 
Raschid to the faithful camel-driver, will serve 
himself. Nay, keep the hand upon the sword. 
Perchance there will be better cause to use it 
than in defying me. From here our paths must 
separate. I promised that to-night I would lay 
out your course for you. It is northward, with¬ 
out swerving, for ten nights, at least.” 

“And whither goest thou, my master?” 

“That only Allah can direct, from day to day. 
La Illaha il Allah!” 

“And what is my mission to be?” asked the 
driver, anxiously. 

99 


> > 
j > 


> »> 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


“It is to seek the Beni Sads; to find the aged 
chief, the Terror of the Desert; to say to him, 
‘Kanana hath fulfilled his vow/ He hath not 
lifted the lance against Airikat; but thy white 
camel is returned to thee, bearing thy first-born 
upon his back. Go, and God go with thee!” 

“Who art thou?” cried the man upon the 
white camel, starting from his seat as the drome¬ 
dary gave the usual grunt, in answer to the prod, 
and moved away. 

The Bedouin boy turned in the saddle, tore off 
the abbe and the mantle that covered him, and 
clad in the sheepskin coat and desert turban 
answered: 

“I am thy brother Kanana, the coward of the 
Beni Sads!” 



100 




FOR 

ALLAH AND ARABIA 

IX 


“JANANAIourKanana!” cried the brother, 
striking the camels neck. The dingy 
JL 3k* dignity of the great white camel was 
ruffled by the blow received, and he expressed 
his disapproval in a series of grunts before he 
made any attempt to start. 


101 







THE LANCE OF KANANA 


“Kanana! Kanana!” the brother called again, 
seeing the dromedary already merging into the 
shadows; but the only response he received was 
from the shepherd’s staff, extended at arm’s length 
pointing northward. 

“My young brother shall not leave me in this 
way. He has no weapon of defense and only a 
little of the grain.” 

Again he struck the camel a sharp blow as the 
animal began very slowly to move forward. The 
black dromedary was hardly distinguishable from 
the night, and was rapidly sinking into the deepen¬ 
ing shadows before the camel was fairly on the way. 

“Go!” cried the rider savagely, striking him 
again, and the camel moved a little faster; but 
he made slow and lumbering work, for he was 
not at all pleased with his treatment. 

The rider’s eyes were fixed intently upon the 
dim outline sinking away from him. The last 
he saw of it was the hand and arm, still holding 
the extended shepherd’s staff, pointing to the 
north. Then all was lost. 


102 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


He kept on in that direction for an hour, but 
it was evident that he had begun in the wrong 
way with the camel, and that he was not forcing 
him to anything like his speed of the night 
before. 

It was beyond his power to overtake the 
dromedary, and doubly chagrined he gave up the 
race and turned northward. 

The path before Kanana was the highway 
between Persia and Mecca. At some seasons it 
was almost hourly traversed, but at midsummer 
only absolute necessity drove the Arabs across 
the very heart of the desert. 

In the height of the rainy season there were 
even occasional pools of water in the hollows, 
here and there. Later there was coarse, tough grass 
growing, sometimes for miles along the way. 

Little by little, however, they disappeared. 
Then the green of each oasis shrank toward the 
center,about the spring or well; and often before 
midsummer was over, they too had dried away. 

The prospect of loneliness, however, was not 

103 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


at all disheartening to Kanana. He had no desire 
to meet with any one, least of all with such 
parties as would be apt to cross the desert at this 
season. 

If a moving shadow appeared in the distance, 
he turned well to one side and had the drome¬ 
dary lie down upon the sand till it passed. 

The black dromedary was fresh, and the Be¬ 
douin boy knew well how to make the most of 
his strength while it lasted; but it was for Allah 
and Arabia that they crossed the desert, and Ka¬ 
nana felt that neither his own life nor that of 
the dromedary could be accounted of value com¬ 
pared with the demand for haste. 

He paid no heed to the usual camping-grounds 
for caravans, except to be sure that he passed 
two of them every night till the dromedary’s 
strength began to fail 

Each morning the sun was well upon its way 
before he halted for the day, and long before it 
set again he was following his shadow upon the 
sand. 


104 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


More and more the dromedary felt the strain. 
When twelve nights had passed, the pride of 
the caliph was anything but a tempting prize, 
and Kanana would hardly have troubled himself 
to turn out for a caravan even if he had thought 
it a band of robbers. 

The Bedouin boy, too, was thoroughly worn 
and exhausted. For days they had been without 
water, checking their thirst by chewing the 
prickly leaves of the little desert vine that is the 
last sign of life upon the drying sand. No dew 
fell at this season, and Kanana realized that it 
was only a matter of hours as to how much 
longer they could hold out. 

Morning came without a sign of water or of 
life, as far as the eye could reach. 

The sun rose higher, and Kanana longed for 
the sight of a human being as intensely as at first 
he had dreaded it. 

Nothing but the ghastly bones of men and 
animals bleaching among the sand-shrubs showed 
him that he was still upon the high way to Bashra. 

105 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Out of the glaring silver-gray, the fiery sun 
sailed into the lusterless blue of the dry, hot sky 
leaving the two separated by the eternal belt of 
leaden clouds that never rise above a desert- 
horizon and never disperse in rain. 

Kanana halted only for his morning prayer, 
and, when it was finished, the petition that he 
added for himself was simply, “Water! water! 
O Allah! give us water.” 

Each day the heat had become more intense, 
and to-day it seemed almost to burn the very 
sand. As Kanana mounted again and started 
on, his tired eyes sought anxiously the glaring 
billows for some sign of life; but not a living 
thing, no shadow even, broke the fearful 
monotony. 

There were gorgeous promises, but they did 
not deceive the eyes that had looked so often 
along the sand. There were great cities rising 
upon the distant horizon, with stately domes 
and graceful minarets such as were never known 
throughout the length and breadth of Arabia. 
106 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


And when the bells ceased tolling in Kanana’s 
ears, he could hear the muezzin’s call to prayer. 
Then the bells would toll again and he would 
mutter, “Water! water! O Allah! give us water.” 

He had no longer any heart to urge the tired 
dromedary to a faster pace. He knew that it 
would only be to see him fall, the sooner, upon 
the sand. The tired creature’s head hung down 
till his nose touched the earth as he plodded 

slowly onward. 

The sun rose higher. It was past the hour 
when they always stopped, but neither thought 
of stopping. Waiting would not bring the water 
to them, and the Bedouin boy knew well that 
to lie on the desert sand that day meant to lie 
there forever. 

The dromedary knew it as well as his master, 
and without a word to urge him, he kept his 
feet slowly moving onward, like an automaton, 
with his nose thrust forward just above the sand, 
as though he too were pleading: “Water! water! 
O Allah! give us water.” 


107 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


His eyes were closed. His feet dragged along 
the sand. Kanana did not attempt to guide him, 
though he swayed from side to side, sometimes 
reeling and almost hilling over low hillocks 
which he made no effort to avoid. 

Kanana could scarcely keep his own eyes open. 
The glare of the desert was blinding; but their 
last hope lay in his watchfulness. 

He struggled hard to keep back the treacher¬ 
ous drowsiness, but his head would drop upon 
one shoulder, then upon the other. He could 
have fallen from the saddle and stretched him¬ 
self upon the sand to die without a struggle, 
had it not been for the caliph’s letter in his bosom. 
Again and again he pressed his hand upon it to 
rouse himself, and muttered, “By the help of 
Allah, I will deliver it.” 

Each time that this roused him he shaded his 
eyes and sought again the sand before him; but 
glaring and gray it stretched away to the horizon, 
without one shadow save that of the forest of 
low and brittle sand-shrubs. 

108 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


The burning sky grew black above him, and 
the desert became a fiery red. The dromedary 
did not seem like a living thing. He thought he 
was sitting upon his perch in the harvest field. 
The sun seemed cold, as its rays beat upon his 
head. He shivered and unconsciously drew the 
wings of his turban over his face. No wonder 
it was cold. It was the early morning under 
Mount Hor. Yes, there were all the blue forget- 
me-nots. How the stream rippled and gurgled 
among them! 

He started. What was that shock that roused 
him? Was it the robbers coming down upon 
him? He shook himself fiercely. Was he 
sleeping? He struggled to spring to his feet, 
but they were tangled in something. 

At last his blood-shot eyes slowly opened and 
consciousness returned. The dromedary had 
fallen to the ground, beside—an empty well. 

Kanana struggled to his feet and looked down 
among the rocks. The bottom was as dry as the 
sand upon which he was standing. 


109 



THE LANCE OF KANANA 


He looked back at the dromedary. Its eyes 
were shut. Its neck was stretched straight out 
before it on the sand, its head rested upon the 
rocks of the well 

“Thou hast given thy life for Allah and Arabia,” 
Kanana said, “and when the Prophet returns in 
his glory, he will remember thee.” 

He took the sack of camel’s food from the 
saddle and emptied the whole of it where the 
dromedary could reach it. Then he cut the 
saddle-straps and dragged the saddle to one side. 
It was all that he could do for the dumb beast 
that had served him. 

Suddenly he noticed that the sun was setting. 
All the long day he must have slept, while the 
poor dromedary had crept onward toward the 
well It had not been a healthful sleep, but it 
refreshed him, and combined with the excite¬ 
ment of waking and working for the dromedary, 
he found his tongue less parched than before. 
Quickly he took a handful of wheat and began 
to chew it vigorously; a secret which has saved the 
110 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


life of many a Bedouin upon the great sea of sand. 

For a moment he leaned upon the empty 
saddle chewing the wheat, watching the sun 
sink into the sand and thinking. 

“Thirteen days” he muttered. “I said four¬ 
teen when I started, but we have done better 
than three days in two. If we did not turn from 
the way to-day, this well is but one night from 
Bashra. 0 Allah! Mahamoud rousol il Allah! give 
thy servant life for this one night.” 

The dromedary had not moved to touch the 
food beside him, and there was no hope of further 
help from the faithful animal. Kanana stood 
beside it for a moment, laid his hand gratefully 
upon the motionless head, then took up his 
shepherd’s staff and started on. 

Sometimes waking, sometimes sleeping, as he 
walked, sometimes thinking himself far away 
from the sands of Bashra, sometimes urging 
himself on with a realization that he must be 
near his journey’s end, he pressed steadily on and 
on, hour after hour. 


Ill 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Sometimes he felt fresh enough to start and 
run. Sometimes he wondered if he had the 
strength to lift his foot and put it forward 
another time. Sometimes he felt sure that he 
was moving faster than a caravan, and that he 
should reach Bashra before morning. Sometimes 
it seemed as though the willing spirit must leave 
the lagging flesh behind as he had left the drome¬ 
dary, and go on alone to Bashra. 

Then he would press the sacred letter hard 
against his bosom and repeat, “By the help of 
Allah I will deliver it!” And all the time, though 
he did not realize it, he was moving forward 
with swift and steady strides, almost as though 
he were inspired with superhuman strength. 

Far away to the east a little spark of light 
appeared. It grew and rose, till above the clouds 
there hung a thin white crescent; the narrowest 
line of moonlight. 

Kanana gave a cry of joy, for it was an omen 
which no Arab could fail to understand. 

Then the air grew cold. The darkest hour 
112 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


before the dawn approached, and the narrow 
moon served only to make the earth invisible. 

The dread of meeting any one had long ago 
left Kanana’s mind. First he had feared it. Then 
he had longed for it. Now he was totally in¬ 
different. He looked at the sky above him to 
keep his course. He looked at the sand beneath 
his feet; but he did not once search the desert 
before him. 

Suddenly he was roused from his lethargy. 
There were shadows just ahead. He paused, 
shaded his eyes from the sky and looked forward, 
long and earnestly. 

“It is not sand-shrubs,” he muttered. “It is 
too high. It is not Bashra. It is too low. It 
is not a caravan. It does not move. It has no 
beginning and no end,” he added, as he looked 
to right and left. 

“It is tents,” he said a moment later, and a 
frown of anxiety gathered over his forehead. 
“Have I missed the way? No tribe so large as 
that would be tented near Bashra. If I turn 

113 


I 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


back I shall die. If I go on —La Illaha il Allah! ” 
he murmured, and resolutely advanced. 

As he drew nearer, the indistinguishable noises 
of the night in a vast encampment became plainly 
audible, but he did not hesitate. 

Following the Arab custom for every stranger 
in approaching a Bedouin camp, he paused at the 
first tent he reached, and standing before the 
open front repeated the Mussulman salutation. 

Some one within roused quickly, and out of 
the darkness a deep voice sounded in reply. 

Then Kanana repeated: 

“I am a wanderer upon the desert. I am far 
from my people.” And the voice replied: 

“If you can lift the lance for Allah and Arabia, 
you are welcome in the camp of Kahled the 
Invincible.” 

"La Illaha il Allah l ” cried Kanana. “ Guide me 
quickly to the tent of Kahled. I am a messenger 
to him from the great Caliph Omar.” 

The earth reeled beneath the feet of Kanana 
as the soldier led the way. 

114 


FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 


The general was roused without the formality 
of modern military tactics or even Mohammedan 
courtesies. A torch was quickly lighted. Ka- 
nana prostrated himself; then rising, he handed 
the precious packet to the greatest general who 
ever led the hosts of Mohammed. 

Kahled the Invincible broke the seal, but before 
he had read a single word, the Bedouin boy fell 
unconscious upon the carpet of the tent. 

As the soldiers lifted him, Kanana roused for 
an instant and murmured: 

“By the dry well, one night to the southwest, 
my black dromedary is dying of thirst. In Allah’s 
name, send him water! He brought the message 
from Mecca in thirteen days!” Then the torch¬ 
light faded before his eyes, and Kanana’s lips 
were sealed in unconsciousness 



115 




KANANA’S 
THIRD MISSION 
x 

A VAST Mohammedan army, with its almost 
/-\ innumerable followers, was marching 
-A. -A. towards Syria, to meet the hosts of the 
Emperor Heraclius. 

Like a pillar of cloud the dust rose above the 
mighty throng. 

116 



KANANA’S THIRD MISSION 


Armed horsemen, ten thousand strong, rode 
in advance. 

A veteran guard of scarred and savage men came 
next, mounted upon huge camels, surrounding 
Kahled the Invincible and his chief officers, who 
rode upon the strongest and most beautiful of 
Persian horses. 

A little distance behind were thousands of 
fierce warriors mounted on camels and drome¬ 
daries. Then came another vast detachment of 
camels bearing the tents, furniture, and provi¬ 
sions of the army; these were followed by a 
motley throng, comprising the families of many 
of the tribes represented in the front, while still 
another powerful guard brought up the rear. 

Behind the body-guard of Kahled and before 
the war-camels rode a smaller guard, in the center 
of which were two camels, bearing a litter 
between them. 

Upon this litter lay Kanana, shielded from 
the sun by a goat’s-hair awning; for almost 
of necessity the army moved by daylight. It 

117 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


started an hour after sunrise, resting two hours 
at noon, and halting an hour before sunset. It 
moved more rapidly than a caravan, however, 
and averaged twenty-five miles a day. 

Close behind Kanana’s litter walked a riderless 
dromedary. At the start it was haggard and 
worn. Its dark hair was burned to a dingy brown 
by the fierce heat of the desert; but even Kahled 
received less careful attention, and every day it 
gathered strength and held its head a little 
higher. 

The black dromedary was not allowed to carry 
any burden, but was literally covered with gay- 
colored cloths; decorating the pride of Omar the 
Great, that had brought the good news from 
Mecca to Bashra in less than thirteen days. 

Nothing pleasanter could have been announced 
to that terrible army of veterans surrounding the 
valiant Kahled, than that it was to face the 
mightiest host which the Emperor Heraclius 
could gather in all the north. 

There was not one in all that throng who 
118 


KANANA’S THIRD MISSION 


doubted, for an instant, that Kahled could con¬ 
quer the whole world if he chose, in the name 
of Allah and the Prophet. 

Many of the soldiers had followed him since 
the day, years before, when he made his first 
grand plunge into Persia. They had seen him 
made the supreme dictator of Babylonia. They 
had seen him send that remarkable message to 
the great monarch of Persia: 

“ Profess the faith of Allah and his Prophet, 
or pay tribute to their servants. If you refuse I 
will come upon you with a host that loves death 
as much as you love life.” 

Once before had they seen him summoned 
from his triumphs in Persia, because all of the 
Mohammedan generals and soldiers in Syria were 
not able to cope with the power of Heraclius. 
They had seen him invested with the supreme 
power by the Caliph Abu-Bekr, Omars predeces¬ 
sor, and watched while, single-handed, he fought 
and conquered the great warrior, Romanus. 

Most of them had been with him before the 

119 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


walls of Damascus, when he besieged that mag¬ 
nificently fortified city upon one side, and fought 
and conquered an army of a hundred thousand 
men upon the other side, sent from Antioch, by 
Heraclius, for the relief of the great city. Then 
they witnessed the fall of Damascus, and followed 
Kahled as he attacked and put to flight an army 
outnumbering his by two to one, and equipped 
and drilled in the most modem methods of 
Roman warfare. 

They had fought with him in the fiercest 

battles ever recorded of those desert lands, and 

0 

they knew him only as Kahled the Invincible. 

After Abu-Bekr had died and Omar the Great 
had taken his place, the proud soldiers saw their 
general unjustly deposed and given such minor 
work as tenting about the besieged cities, while 
others did the fighting, until he left Syria in 
disgust. 

No wonder they were glad to see him recalled 
to take his proper place. They jested without 
end about the cowards who were frightened 
120 


KANANA’S THIRD MISSION 


because Heraclius had threatened to annihilate 
the Mussulmans. And the march was one grand 
holiday, in spite of heat and hardships. 

As Kanana lay in his litter and listened to 
these bursts of eloquence in praise of the general, 
he was often stirred with ardent patriotism and 
almost persuaded to cast his lot among the 
soldiers; but the same odd theories which be¬ 
fore had prevented his taking up a lance, restrained 
him still. 

On the fourth day he left the litter and took 
his seat upon the black dromedary. Kahled 
directed that costly garments and a sword and 
lance be furnished him, but Kanana prostrated 
himself before the general and pleaded: “My 
father, I never held a lance, and Allah knows me 
best in this sheepskin coat.” 

Kahled frowned, but Kanana sat upon the 
decorated dromedary precisely as he left the perch 
in the harvest-field. He expected to take his 
place with the camp-followers in the rear, but 
found that he was still to ride in state, surrounded 


121 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


by the veteran guard. Indeed, he became a figure 
so celebrated and conspicuous that many a warrior 
in passing, after prostrating himself before the 
general, touched his forehead to the ground 
before Kanana and the black dromedary. 

It might have made a pleasant dream, while 
sitting upon the perch in the harvest-field, but 
the reality disturbed him, and again he began to 
plan some means of escape. 

He carefully computed the position of the 
Beni Sad encampment, and determined the day 
when the army would pass but a few miles to 
the east of it. 

One who has not lived upon the desert, and 
seen it illustrated again and again, can scarcely 
credit the accuracy with which a wandering 
Bedouin can locate the direction and distance to 
any point with which he is familiar; but even 
then Kanana was at a loss as to how to accom¬ 
plish his purpose when the whole matter was 
arranged for him, and he was supplied with a 
work which he could perform for Allah and 
122 


KAN ANA’S THIRD MISSION 


Arabia, still holding his shepherd’s staff and 
wearing his sheepskin coat. 

The army halted for the night upon the eve 
of the day when it would pass near the encamp¬ 
ment of the Beni Sads. The tent which Kanana 
occupied was pitched next that of Kahled 

He sat upon the ground eating his supper. 
All about him was the clatter and commotion 
of the migh ty host preparing for the night, when 
he heard an officer reporting to the general that 
in three days the supply of grain would be 
exhausted. 

“My father,” he exclaimed, prostrating himself 
before the general, “ thy servant’s people, the Beni 
Sads, must be less than a night’s journey to the 
north and west. They were harvesting six weeks 
ago, and must have five hundred camel-loads of 
grain to sell. Bid me go to them to-night, and, 
with the help of Allah, by the sunrise after 
to-morrow it shall be delivered to thy hand.” 

Kahled had formed a very good opinion of the 
Bedouin boy. He had noticed his uneasiness, and, 

123 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


suspecting that he would make an endeavor to 
escape, he had been searching for some occupa¬ 
tion that should prevent it by rendering him 
more content to remain He felt that a time 
might come when Kanana, with his sheepskin 
coat and shepherd’s staff, might be of greater 
value to him than many a veteran with costly 
abbe and gleaming sword. 

The result was an order that, one hour after 
sunset, Kanana should start, at the head of a 
hundred horsemen, with ten camels laden with 
treasure for the purchase of grain, with twenty 
camels bearing grain-sacks, and one with gifts from 
Kahled to the Terror of the Desert, in acknowl¬ 
edgment of the service rendered by his son. 

When he had purchased what grain the Beni 
Sads would sell, he was to continue in advance 
of the army, securing supplies to the very border 
of Syria. 

Kanana was no prodigy of meekness that he 
should not appreciate this distinction. A prouder 
boy has never lived, in Occident or Orient, than 
124 


KAN ANA’S THIRD MISSION 


the Bedouin shepherd who sat upon the black 
dromedary and publicly received the generals 
blessing and command of the caravan. 

In any other land there might have been 
rebellion among a hundred veteran horsemen, 
when placed under command of a boy in a sheep¬ 
skin coat, armed only with a shepherd’s staff, but 
there was no man of them who had not heard 
wonderful tales of Kanana’s courage; and the 
shepherd who had left the harvest field six weeks 
before, known only as the coward of the Beni 
Sads, set his face toward home that night, fol¬ 
lowed by a hundred savage warriors who obeyed 
him as one of the bravest of all the Bedouins. 

As the caravan moved rapidly over the plain, 
bearing its costly burden, it is hardly surprising 
that the beardless chief recalled his last interview 
with his angry father, when that veteran sheik 
refused to trust him with a single horse to start 
upon his mission; but he was none the less 
anxious to reach his father’s tent and receive his 
father’s blessing. 


125 



THE 

SACRED GIRDLE 

XI 

S HORTLY after midnight five horsemen who 
rode in advance returned to report a large 
encampment, far away upon the left. Then 
Kanana took the lead as a brave Bedouin chief¬ 
tain should, and, followed by the caravan, ap- 
126 




THE SACRED GIRDLE 


proached the smoldering fires which betrayed the 
location of the camp. 

He rode directly toward the tent of the sheik, 
which always stands in the outer line, farthest 
from a river or upon the side from which the 
guests of the tribe will be most likely to 
approach. 

As he approached, a shadow rose silently out 
of the shadows. It sniffed the air. Then there 
was a faint grunt of satisfaction and the shadow 
sank down into the shadows again. 

Kanana slipped from the back of the drome¬ 
dary without waiting for him to lie down, and, 
running forward to the white camel, whispered, 
“I knew that thou wouldst know me.” 

The Terror of the Desert appeared at the tent 
door with a hand raised in blessing. 

Kanana ran to his father with a cry of joy, and 
the white-haired sheik threw his arms about the 
neck of his son and kissed him, saying: 

“Forgive me, Kanana, my brave Kanana! I said 
that thou hadst come to curse me with thy 

127 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


cowardice, and lo! thou hast done grander, braver 
deeds than I in all my years! Verily, thou hast 
put me to shame, but it is with courage, not 
with cowardice.” 

Kanana tried to speak, but tears choked him. 
All alone he could calmly face a score of savage 
robbers, armed to the teeth, but suddenly he 
discovered that he was only a boy, after all. He 
had almost forgotten it. And in helpless silence 
he clung to his father’s neck. 

The old sheik roused himself. 

“Kanana,” he exclaimed, “why am I silent? 
The whole tribe waits to welcome thee. Ho! 
every one who sleepeth! ” he called aloud, “ awake! 
awake! Kanana is returned to us!” 

Far and near the cry was repeated, and a 
moment later the people came hurrying to greet 
the hero of the Beni Sads. 

Not only had the brother returned with the 
white camel and a glowing account of his rescue 
by the veiled messenger of the caliph, but a 
special officer had come, by a passing caravan, 
128 


THE SACRED GIRDLE 


bearing to the Terror of the Desert a bag of gold 
and the congratulations of Omar the Great, that 
he was the father of such a son. 

Now the gifts from Kahled the Invincible 
arrived, and the hundred horsemen obeying the 
voice of Kanana. The Beni Sads could scarcely 
believe their eyes and ears. 

Torches were lighted. Fires were rekindled 
and, before sunrise, the grandest of all grand 
Bedouin feasts was in full glory. 

Vainly, however, did the old sheik bring out 
the best robe to put it on him; with a ring for 
his hand and shoes for his feet; in a custom for 
celebrating a son’s return which was old when 
the story of the Prodigal was told. 

Kanana only shook his head and answered 5 
“My father, Allah knows me best barefooted and 
in this sheepskin coat.” 

The Bedouin seldom tastes of meat except 
upon the occasion of some feast. 

When a common guest arrives, unleavened 
bread is baked and served with ayeshj a paste of 

129 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


sour camel’s milk and flour. But Kanana was 
not a common guest. 

For one of higher rank, coffee and melted 
butter are prepared, but these were not enough 
for a welcome to Kanana. 

For one still higher, a kid or lamb is boiled in 
camel’s milk and placed in a great wooden dish, 
covered with melted fat and surrounded by a 
paste of wheat that has been boiled and dried 
and ground and boiled again with butter 

Twenty lambs and kids were thus prepared, 
but the people were not satisfied. Nothing was 
left but the greatest and grandest dish which a 
Bedouin tribe can add to a feast in an endeavor 
to do honor to its noblest guest. Two she-camels 
were killed and the meat quickly distributed to 
be boiled and roasted. All for the boy who had 
left them, six weeks before, with no word of 
farewell but the parting taunt of a rat-catcher. 

While the men were eating the meat and 
drinking camel’s milk and coffee, the women sang 
patriotic songs, often substituting Kanana’s name 
130 


THE SACRED GIRDLE 


for that of some great hero; and when the men 
had finished and the women gathered in the 
maharems to feast upon what was left, the 
Terror of the Desert, roused to the highest pitch 
of patriotism, declared his intention to join the 
army of Kahled, and nearly two hundred of the 
Beni Sads resolved to follow him. 

It was nearly noon when Kanana and those 
who were with him went to sleep in the goat’s- 
hair tents, leaving the whole tribe at work, 
packing the grain-sacks, loading the camels, and 
cleaning their weapons for war. 

Kanana performed his mission faithfully, little 
dreaming that Kahled’s one design in placing it 
in his hands was to keep him with the army for 
services of much greater importance. 

The time which the general anticipated came 
when the hosts of Kahled, joined by the Mo¬ 
hammedan armies of Syria and Arabia, were 
finally encamped at Yermonk upon the borders 
of Palestine. 

Kanana was summoned to the general’s tent 

131 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


and, trembling like the veriest coward in all the 
world, he fell upon his face before the man to 
whom was entrusted the almost hopeless task of 
rescuing Arabia. To Kahled alone all eyes were 
turned, and Kanana trembled, not because he was 
frightened, but because he was alone in the tent 
with one who seemed to him but little less than 
God himself. 

Kahled’s words were always few and quickly 
spoken. 

“Son of the Terror of the Desert,” said he, 
“many conflicting rumors reach me concerning 
the approaching enemy. I want the truth. I 
want it quickly. What dost thou require to aid 
thee in performing this duty?” 

Kanana’s forehead still touched the ground. 
Overwhelmed by this sudden order, an attempt 
to obey which, meant death, without mercy, 
without one chance in a hundred of escape, he 
altogether forgot to rise. 

Kahled sat in silence, understanding human 
nature too well to disturb the boy, and for five 
132 


THE SACRED GIRDLE 


minutes neither moved. Then Kanana rose 
slowly and his voice trembled a little as he replied, 
“My father, I would have thy fleetest horse, thy 
blessing, and thy girdle.” 

Kahled the Invincible wore a girdle that was 
known to every soldier and camp-follower of 
the army. It was of camel’s-skin, soft-tanned 
and colored with a brilliant Persian dye, which, 
as far away as it could be seen at all, no one could 
mistake. 

It was part of a magnificent curtain which 
once hung in the royal palace of Babylon. It 
pleased the fancy of the fierce warrior, and he 
wore it as a girdle till it became his only insignia. 
There was not a color like it within hundreds 
of miles at least, and when the people saw it 
they knew that it was Kahled. 

“Take what horse thou wilt,” replied the 
general. “I give thee, now, my blessing.” Then 
he hesitated for a moment. Had Kanana asked 
a hundred camels or a thousand horsemen he 
would have added, “Take them.” As it was, he 

133 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


said, a little doubtfully, “What wouldst thou 
with my girdle?” 

In all the direct simplicity which clung to him 
in spite of everything, Kanana replied: “ I would 
hide it under my coat; I would that it be pro¬ 
claimed throughout the army that some one has 
fled to the enemy with the sacred girdle, and 
that a great reward be offered to him who shall 
return to Kahled any fragment of it he may find.” 

Without another word, the general unwound 
the sacred girdle, and Kanana, reverently touch¬ 
ing it to his forehead, bound it about him under 
his sheepskin coat. 

Kneeling, he received the blessing, and leaving 
the tent, he selected the best of Kahled’s horses 
and disappeared in the darkness alone. 

The next morning an oppressive sense of 
inaction hung about the headquarters. 

The only order issued accompanied an an¬ 
nouncement of the loss of the sacred girdle. 

Every soldier was commanded to be on the 
watch for it, to seize and to return at once to 
134 


THE SACRED GIRDLE 


Kahled, even the smallest fragment which might 
be found. For this the fortunate man was 
promised as many gold coins as, lying flat, could 
be made to touch the piece which he returned. 





135 





KAN ANA’S 
MESSENGERS 

XII 

F AR and wide the impatient soldiers asked, 
“Why is the army inactive?” 

“Is not the motto of Kahled ‘Waiting 
does not win’?” 

“Has he not taught us that action is the soul 
and secret of success?” 

136 




KANANA’S MESSENGERS 


“Does he not realize that the hosts of Her- 
aclius are bearing down upon us, that he leaves 
us sitting idly in our tents?” 

“Is Kahled the Invincible afraid?” 

Such were the questions which they put to 
their officers, but no one dared carry them to the 
general, who sat in his tent without speaking, 
from sunrise to sunset, the first day after the 
girdle disappeared. 

“Is it the loss of his girdle?” 

“Did he not conquer Babylonia without it?” 
“Does he not fight in the name of Allah and the 
Prophet ? Could a bright-colored girdle give him 
strength?” 

Thus the second day went by. 

Kahled the Invincible was silent and sullen, 
and the impression grew and grew that in some 
way the safety and success of the whole army 
depended upon the recovery of that girdle. 

So intense was this sentiment, that when at 
midnight, after the third day, it was reported 
that a fragment of the girdle had been captured 

137 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


by some scouts, and was then being taken to the 
general’s tent, the whole army roused itself and 
prepared for action. 

Not an order had been issued, yet every soldier 
felt instinctively that the coming morning would 
find him on the march. 

It was midnight. For a day Kahled had not 
even tasted food. He sat alone in his tent upon 
a Persian ottoman. A bronze vessel from Baby¬ 
lonia, filled with oil, stood near the center of the 
tent. Fragments of burning wick, floating in the 
oil, filled the tent with a mellow, amber light. 

There was excitement without, but Kahled did 
not heed it till a soldier unceremoniously entered, 
bearing in his hand a part of the curtain from 
the palace of Babylon. 

With a sudden ejaculation Kahled caught it 
from the soldier’s hand, but ashamed of having 
betrayed an emotion, he threw it carelessly upon 
the rug at his feet, handing the soldier a bag of 
gold, and bidding him see how many pieces, 
lying flat, could touch it. 

138 


KANANA’S MESSENGERS 


The soldier worked slowly, carefully planning 
the position as he laid the pieces down, and 
Kahled watched him as indifferently as though 
he were only moving men upon the Arab’s 
favorite checkerboard. 

When every piece that could was touching 
the camel skin, the soldier returned the bag, half- 
emptied, and began to gather up his share. 

Kahled deliberately emptied the bag, bidding 
him take the whole and go. 

He was leaving the tent when the general 
called him back. He had picked up the skin, 
and was carelessly turning it over in his hand. 
It was neatly cut from the girdle, in the shape 
of a shield, a little over a foot in width. 

“How did you come by it?” Kahled asked 
indifferently. 

“We were searching the plain, a day’s journey 
to the north,” the soldier answered. “We were 
looking for travelers who might bring tidings 
of the enemy. We saw four strangers, Syrians, 
riding slowly, and a shepherd who seemed to be 

139 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


their guide. Upon his horses front, hung like a 
breastplate, where every eye could see, was yonder 
piece of the sacred girdle. We dashed upon 
them, and the cowards ran. The shepherd was 
the last to turn. I was ahead, but not near enough 
to reach him, so I threw my lance. He fell from 
his horse and—” 

“You killed him?” shrieked the general, 
springing to his feet and dropping the camel skin. 

“No! no!” gasped the frightened soldier. “I 
only tried to. He wore a coat of sheepskin. It 
was too thick for my lance. He sprang to his 
feet, tore the lance from his coat, and ran after 
the rest, faster even than they could ride, leaving 
his horse behind.” 

“Tis well,” muttered the general, and he de¬ 
voutly added, “ Allah be praised for that sheep¬ 
skin coat!” 

The soldier left the tent, and going nearer to 
the light, Kahled examined the fragment of the 
sacred girdle. It was double. Two pieces had 
been cut and the edges joined together. 

140 



KAN ANA’S MESSENGERS 


He carefully separated them, and upon the 
inner side found what he evidently expected. 

These words had been scratched upon the 
leather, and traced with blood: 

“Sixty thousand, from Antioch and Aleppo, 
under Jababal the traitor, encamp two days from 
Yermonk, north, waiting for Manuel with eighty 
thousand Greeks and Syrians, now six days away. 
Still another army is yet behind. Thy servant 
goes in search of Manuel when this is sent.” 

“Allah be praised for that sheepskin coat!” 
Kahled repeated, placing the fragment in his belt, 
and walking slowly up and down the tent. 

“Jababal is two days to the north,” he added 
presently. “A day ago Manuel was six days behind 
him. He will be still three days behind when I 
reach Jababal, and while he is yet two days away, 
the sixty thousand in advance will be destroyed.” 

An order was given for ten thousand horsemen 
and fifteen thousand camel riders to start for the 
north at once. The soldiers expected it, and were 
ready even before the general. 


141 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Four days and a night went by, and they 
were again encamped at Yermonk; but Jababal’s 
army of sixty thousand men was a thing of the 
past. 

Again a strip of the girdle was discovered. 
This time it hung upon the neck of a camel 
leading into the camp a long caravan laden with 
grain and fruit. 

The camel-driver reported that one had met 
them while they were upon the way to supply 
the army of Manuel. He had warned them that 
Manuel would simply confiscate the whole and 
make them prisoners, and had promised that if 
they turned southward instead, to the camp of 
Kahled, with the talisman which he hung about 
the camel’s neck, they should be well received 
and fairly treated. 

From this talisman Kahled learned that the 
army of Manuel was almost destitute of provi¬ 
sions, and that a detachment with supplies was 
another five or six days behind. 

The general smiled as he thought how the 
142 


KANANA’S MESSENGERS 


Bedouin boy had shrewdly deprived the hungry 
enemy of a hundred and fifty camel-loads of 
food, while he secured for himself an excellent 
messenger to his friends. 

During the night Manuel’s magnificent army 
arrived, and encamped just north of the Moham¬ 
medans. Manuel chose for his citadel a high 
cliff that rose abruptly out of the plain between 
the two armies, and ended in a precipitous ledge 
toward Arabia. 

Standing upon the brow of this cliff, a little 
distance from the tent of Manuel, one could 
look far down the valley, over the entire 
Mohammedan encampment. 

When morning dawned, the prince sent for 
the leading Mohammedan generals to confer 
with him concerning terms of peace. He offered 
to allow the entire army to retire unmolested, 
if hostages were given that the Arabs should 
never again enter Syria. 

The Mohammedan generals, who had been 
thoroughly dismayed at the sight of the Grecian 

143 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


phalanx, thanked Allah for such a merciful 
deliverance, and instantly voted to accept. The 
real authority, however, rested with Kahled, 
who replied, “Remember Jababal!” 

With so many in favor of peace, Manuel 
hoped for an acceptance of his terms, and pro¬ 
posed that they consider the matter for a day. 

Kahled, with his hand upon the camel-skin in 
his belt, replied again: “ Remember Jababal! ” 

He realized that his only hope of victory lay 
in striking a tired and hungry enemy, and that 
each hour’s delay was dangerous. Less than half 
an hour later he was riding along the line of 
battle shouting the battle cry: 

“Paradise is before you! Fight for it!” 

The soldiers were ready, and there began the 
most desperate struggle that was ever waged 
upon the plains of Syria. 

All day long the furious conflict raged. Three 
times the Bedouins were driven back. Three 
times the cries and entreaties of their women 
and children in the rear urged them to renew 
144 


KAN ANA’S MESSENGERS 


the fight, and again they plunged furiously upon 
the solid Grecian phalanx. 

Night came, and neither army had gained or 
lost, but among the Bedouin captives taken by 
the Greeks were several who recognized Kanana. 
They saw him moving freely about the enemy’s 
camp. They learned that he was supposed to 
be a servant who had fled, with other camp- 
followers, at the time of the slaughter of Ja- 
babal’s army. They could see in it nothing but 
cowardly desertion. They said: 

“ He was afraid that we should be conquered, 
and instead of standing by us to fight for 
Arabia, he ran to the enemy to hide himself;” 
and in their anger they betrayed him. They 
reported to the Greeks that he was a Bedouin, 
of the army of Kahled, not a Syrian servant of 
Jababal. 

Kanana was quickly seized, bound and dragged 
into the presence of the prince. Manuel had 
suspected that some one had betrayed both Ja¬ 
babal and himself to Kahled, and, chagrined at 

145 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


the result of the first day’s battle, he fiercely 
accused Kanana. 

Calmly the Bedouin boy admitted that it was 
he who had given the information, and he 
waited without flinching as Manuel drew his 
sword. 

“Boy, dost thou not fear to die?” he exclaimed, 
as he brandished his sword before Kanana. 

“I fear nothing!” replied Kanana proudly. 

“Take him away and guard him carefully,” 
muttered the prince. “Dying is too easy for 
such as he. He must be tortured first.” 

The second day and the third were like the 
first. The army of the Prophet fought with a 
desperation that never has been equaled. The 
Ishmaelite counted his life as nothing so that 
he saw a Greek fall with him. It was the fate 
of Allah and Arabia for which they fought, and 
they stood as though rooted to the ground, 
knowing of no retreat but death. 

Again and again their general’s voice rang loud 
above the clashing arms: 

146 


KANANA’S MESSENGERS 


“Paradise is before you if you fight! Hell 
waits for him who runs!” And they fought 
and fought and fought, and not a man dared turn 
his back. 

Again and again the Grecian phalanx advanced, 
but they found a wall before them as solid as 
the cliff behind them. 

When a Bedouin lay dead he ceased to fight, 
but not before; and the moment he fell, another 
sprang forward from behind to take his place. 



147 




THE 

LANCE OF KANANA 

XIII 

T HE army of the Prophet had not re¬ 
treated one foot from its original position, 
when night brought the third day’s battle 
to a close. 

Kahled sank upon the ground among his 
soldiers, while the women from the rear brought 
148 




THE LANCE OF KANANA 


what refreshments they could to the tired 
warriors. 

All night he lay awake beside his gray battle- 
horse, looking at the stars and thinking. 

Flight or death would surely be the result of 
the coming day. Even Kahled the Invincible, 
had given up all hope of victory. 

He was too brave a man to fly, but he was 
also too brave to force others to stand and be 
slaughtered for his pride. 

It was a bitter night for him, but as the 
eastern sky was tinged with gray, he at last 
resolved to make the sacrifice himself, and save 
such of his people as he could. 

The women and children, with the wounded 
who could be moved, must leave at once, taking 
all that they could carry with them, and scatter 
themselves in every direction. 

When they were well away, he, with such as 
preferred to stand and die with him, would hold 
the foe in check while the rest of the army 
retreated, with orders to march at once to Mecca 

149 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


and Medina, and hold those two sacred cities as 
long as a man remained alive. 

He breathed a deep sigh when the plan was 
completed, and rising, mounted his tired charger, 
to see that it was properly executed. 

It was the first time in his career that Kahled 
the Invincible had ordered a retreat, and his only 
consolation was that he was neither to lead nor 
join in it. 

In the camp of Manuel the same dread of 
the coming day clouded every brow. Food was 
entirely exhausted. Horses and camels had been 
devoured. They had neither the means with 
which to move away, nor the strength to stand 
their ground. 

Their solid phalanx was only what the enemy 
saw along the front. Rank after rank had been 
supplied from the rear till there was nothing left 
to call upon. 

All that remained of the eighty thousand iron- 
hearted fighters—the pride of the Emperor 
Heraclius—as they gathered about the low camp 
150 



THE LANCE OF KANANA 


fires, confessed that they were overmatched by 
the sharper steel of Mohammedan zeal and 
Bedouin patriotism. 

Manuel and his officers knew that for at least 
three days no relief could reach them; they knew, 
too, that they could not endure another day of 
fighting. 

“If we could make them think that their men 
are deserting and joining us, we might frighten 
them,” suggested an officer. 

“Send for the spy,” said Manuel quickly,“and 
let it be proclaimed to the other prisoners that 
all who will join us shall be set free, and that 
those who refuse shall be slaughtered without 
mercy.” 

Haggard and worn Kanana stood before him. 
For fifty hours he had lain bound, in a cave at 
the foot of a cliff, without a drop of water or a 
morsel of food. 

“I am about to torture thee,” said the prince. 
“Thou hast wronged me more than thy sufferings 
can atone, but I shall make them as bitter as I 

151 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


can. Hast thou anything to say before the work 
begins?” 

Kanana thought for a moment, then, hesitating 
as though still doubtful, he replied: 

“When the tempest rages on the desert, doth 
not the camel lay him down, and the young 
camel say to the drifting sand, ‘Cover me; kill 
me, I am helpless’? But among the captives 
taken by the prince, I saw an old man pass my 
cave. He is full of years, and for him I would 
part my lips. I hear that the prince will have 
the prisoners slain, but it is not the custom of 
my people to make the women, the old men, and 
the children suffer with the rest. May it please 
the prince to double every torture he has prepared 
for me,and in exchange to set that old man free ?’ 5 

“Who is he?” asked the prince. 

“The one with a long white beard. There 
are not two,” replied Kanana. 

“And what is he to you?” 

Kanana hesitated. 

“He shall die unless you tell me,” said the 


152 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


prince, and Kanana’s cold lips trembled as he 
whispered: 

“He is my father.” 

“’Tis well,” said Manuel. “Let him be 
brought.” 

The old man entered, but paused at the 
opposite side of the tent, looking reproachfully 
at his son. He had heard from the other captives 
how they had discovered Kanana, a deserter in 
the hour of danger, living in the tents of the 
enemy. Even he had believed the tale, and he 
was enough of a patriot to be glad that they 
betrayed his son. 

“Is this thy father?” asked the prince. 

“ He does not look it in his eyes." 

Kanana simply bowed his head. 

That look was piercing his heart far deeper 
than the threats of torture; but Manuel continued: 

“You have offered to suffer every torture I can 
devise if I will set him free. But you have not 
compassed your debt to me. You gave to Kahled 
the information by which he conquered Jababal. 

153 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 

You gave him information which prevented his 
making terms of peace with me. But for you 
I should be on my way to Mecca and Medina, 
to sweep them from the earth. But I like courage, 
and you have shown more of it than Kahled 
himself. It is a pity to throw a heart like yours 
under a clod of earth, and I will give you an 
opportunity to save both yourself and your father. 
Stand upon the brow of the cliff yonder, as the 
sun comes up. There, according to the custom 
of your people, wave this lance above your head. 
Shout your own name and your father’s, so that 
all of your people can hear, and tell them that in 
one hour thirty thousand Arabs will draw the 
sword for the cause of Heraclius. Then throw 
the lance, and if your aim be good, and you do 
kill an Arab, that moment I will set thy father 
free, and thou shalt be made a prince among my 
people. Do not refuse me, or, after I have 
tortured thee, with red-hot irons I will burn out 
thy father’s eyes, lest he should still look savagely 
upon thy corpse!” 

154 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


He had scarcely ceased speaking when the old 
sheik exclaimed: 

“My son! My Kanana, I have wronged thee! 
Forgive me if thou canst, but let him burn out 
my eyes! Oh! not for all the eyes that watch 
the stars would I have a son of mine a traitor. 
Thou wouldst not lift a lance before. I charge 
thee now, by Allah, lift it not for any price that 
can be offered thee by this dog of an infidel! ” 

Kanana did not look at his father. His eyes were 
fixed on Manuel, and when all was still, he asked: 

“Will the prince allow his captive to sit alone 
till sunrise and consider his offer?” 

“Take him out upon the cliff and let him sit 
alone,” said Manuel; “ but have the irons heated 
for his fathers eyes.” 

Kanana chose a spot whence he could over¬ 
look the valley, and whatever his first intentions 
may have been, he changed them instantly, with 
his first glance. He started, strained his eyes, and 
looked as far as his keen sight could pierce the 
gray light of early morning. 


155 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Then his head sank lower and lower over his 
hands, lying in his lap, till the wings of his turban 
completely covered them. He did not move or 
look again. 

In that one glance he had recognized the 
result of Kahled’s last resolve. In the gray dis¬ 
tance he saw that laden camels were moving to 
the south. He saw the dark spots, most distant 
in the valley, suddenly disappear. They were 
folding their tents! They were moving away! 
Kahled the Invincible had ordered a retreat. 

Kanana knew that to retreat at that moment 
meant death to Arabia, but he did not move 
again till an officer touched him on the shoulder, 
and warned him that in a moment more the sun 
would rise. 

With a startled shudder he rose and entered 
Manuel's tent. 

“Is the word of the prince unchanged?" he 
asked. “If I speak the words and throw the 
lance and kill an Arab, that moment will he set 
my father free?" 

156 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


“I swear it by all the powers of earth and 
heaven! ” replied the prince. 

“Give me the lance,” said Kanana. 

His father crouched against the tent, muttering: 
“For such an act, Kanana, when I am set free 
I will find first a fire with which to heat an iron, 
and burn my own eyes out.” 

Kanana did not heed him. He took the lance, 
tested it, and threw it scornfully upon the 

“Give me a heavier one!” he exclaimed. “Do 
you think me like your Greek boys, made of 
wax? Give me a lance that, when it strikes, will 

kill” 

They gave him a heavier lance 

“The hand-rest is too small for a Bedouin,” 
he muttered, grasping it; “ but wait! I can remedy 
that myself. Come. Let us have it over with.” 

As he spoke he tore a strip from beneath his 
coat, and, turning sharply about, walked before 
them to the brink of the cliff, winding the strip 
firmly about the hand-rest of the lance. 



157 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Upon the very edge he stood erect and waited. 

The sun rose out of the plain, and flashed with 
blinding force upon the Bedouin boy, clad in his 
sheepskin coat and desert turban, precisely as it 
had found him in the porch of Aaron’s tomb, 
upon the summit of Mount Hor. 

His hand no longer held a shepherd’s staff, but 
firmly grasped a Grecian lance, that gleamed and 
flashed as fiercely as the sun. 

Upon Mount Hor he was bending forward, 
eagerly shading his eyes, anxiously looking away 
into the dim distance, searching the path of his 
destiny. 

Now there was no eagerness. Calmly he stood 
there. Vainly the sun flashed in his clear, wide- 
open eyes. He did not even know that it was 
shining. 

Not a muscle moved. Why was he waiting? 

“Are you afraid?” muttered the prince, who 
had come as near as possible without being too 
plainly seen from below “Remember your old 
father’s eyes.” 

158 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Kanana did not turn his head, but calmly 
answered: 

“Do you see yonder a man upon a gray horse, 
moving slowly among the soldiers? He is coming 
nearer, nearer. That man is Kahled the Invincible. 
If he should come within range of the lance of 
Kanana, I suppose that Manuel would be well 
pleased to wait?” 

“Good boy! Brave boy!” replied the prince. 
“When thou hast made thy mind to do a thing, 
thou doest it admirably. Kill him, and thou 
shalt be loaded down with gold till the day when 
thou diest of old age.” 

Kanana made no reply, but standing in bold 
relief upon the cliff, watched calmly and waited, 
till at last Kahled the Invincible left the line of 
soldiers, and alone rode nearer to the cliff 

“Now is your chance! Now! now!” exclaimed 
the prince. 

Slowly Kanana raised the lance. Three times 
he waved it above his head. Three times he 
shouted: 


159 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


“I am Kanana, son of the Terror of the Desert!” 
in the manner of the Bedouin who challenges 
an enemy to fight, or meets a foe upon the plain. 

For a moment, then, he hesitated. The next 
sentence was hard to speak. He knew too well 
what the result would be. It needed now no 
straining of the eyes to see his destiny. 

All the vast army down below was looking up 
at him. Thousands would hear his words. Tens 
of thousands would see what followed them. 

“Go on! goon!” the prince ejaculated fiercely. 
Kanana drew a deep breath and shouted: 

“ In one hour thirty thousand Arabs will draw 
the sword in the army of Heraclius!” 

Then gathering all his strength, he hurled the 
lance directly at the great Mohammedan general, 
who had not moved since he began to speak. 

Throughout those two great armies one might 
have heard a sparrow chirp, as the gleaming, 
flashing blade fell like a meteor from the cliff. 

The aim was accurate. The Bedouin boy 
cringed, and one might have imagined that it 
160 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


was even more accurate than he meant. It pierced 
the gray charger. The war-horse of Kahled 
plunged forward and fell dead upon the plain. 

A fierce howl rose from the ranks of the 
Ishmaelites. Men and women shrieked and yelled. 

“Kanana the traitor! A curse upon the traitor 
Kanana!” rent the very air. 

Such was the confusion which followed that, 
had the Greeks been ready to advance, a thousand 
might have put a hundred thousand Bedouins to 
flight. But they were not ready. 

Kanana stood motionless upon the cliff. He 
heard the yells of “Traitor!” but he knew that 
they would come, and did not heed them. 

Calmly he watched till Kahled gained his feet, 
dragged the lance from his dying horse, and with 
it in his hand, hurried toward the soldiers. 

Only once he turned, and for an instant looked 
up at the solitary figure upon the cliff. He lifted 
his empty hand, as though it were a blessing 
and not a malediction he bestowed upon the 
Bedouin boy; then he disappeared. 


161 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


With a deep, shivering sigh, Kanana pressed 
one hand beneath his sheepskin coat. A sharp 
contortion passed over him, but he turned about 
and stood calmly, face to face with Manuel. 

“You did well,” said the prince, “but you did 
not kill an Arab. It was for that I made my 
promise.” 

“ c And if you kill an Arab,’” gasped Kanana, 
“‘that moment I will set your father freed 
Those were the princes words! That was his 
promise, bound by all the powers of earth and 
heaven! He will keep it! He will not dare defy 
those powers, for I have killed an Arab!” 

Clutching the sheepskin coat, Kanana tore it 
open, and, above a brilliant girdle, they saw a 
dagger buried in his bleeding breast. He tottered, 
reeled, stepped backward, and fell over the brink 
of the cliff. “You may as well go free,” said Man¬ 
uel, turning to the sheik. “A monstrous sacrifice 
has just been made to purchase your liberty ” 

Turning abruptly he entered his tent to 
consider, with his officers, the next result. 


162 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


“I think they are flying,” an officer reported, 
coming from the cliff. “The horsemen and 
camels are hurrying into the hills. Only foot 
soldiers seem remaining in the front.” 

“Let every soldier face them who has strength 
to stand!” commanded the prince. “Put every¬ 
thing to the front, and if they fly give them 
every possible encouragement.” 

The order was obeyed, and the fourth day of 
battle began; but it was spiritless and slow. 

The Bedouins, with their constantly thinning 
ranks, stood with grim determination where their 
feet rested, but they made no effort to advance. 

The wearied out and starving Grecian phalanx 
simply held its ground. The prince was not there 
to urge his soldiers on. The voice of Kahled did 
not sound among the Mussulmans. 

An hour went by. 

Suddenly there was an uproar in the rear of 
the army of Heraclius. There was a wild shout, 
a clash of arms, and the watchword of Islam 
rang above the tumult, in every direction. 


163 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


Ten thousand horse and twenty thousand war- 
camels poured in upon that defenseless rear, and, 
even as Kanana had declared, in just one hour 
there were thirty thousand Arabs wielding their 
savage swords in the army of Heraclius. 

Another hour went by. The battle cry of 
Kahled ceased. The shout of victory rang from 
the throats of the Mussulmans. Manuel and all 
his officers were slain. The magnificent army of 
Heraclius was literally obliterated. 

Treasure without limit glutted the conquered 
camp. Arabia was saved. 

Quickly the soldiers erected a gorgeous throne 
and summoned Kahled to sit upon it, while they 
feasted about him and did him honor as their 
victorious and invincible leader. 

The veteran warrior responded to their call, 
but he came from his tent with his head bowed 
down, bearing in his arms a heavy burden. 
Slowly he mounted the platform, and upon the 
sumptuous throne he laid his burden down. 

It was the bruised and lifeless body of Kanana. 
164 


THE LANCE OF KANANA 


With trembling hand the grim chief drew 
back the sheepskin coat, and all men then be¬ 
held, bound about the Bedouin boy, the sacred 
girdle! 

“ I gave it to him,” said Kahled solemnly; “ and 
upon the fragments you have returned to me, 
he wrote the information by which we con¬ 
quered Jababal and Manuel. You saw him throw 
this lance at me; you called him ‘traitor!’ but 
about the hand-rest there was wound this strip. 
See! In blood—in his blood—these words are 
written here: ‘Do not retreat. The infidels are 
starving and dying. Strike them in the rear.’ It 
was his only means of reaching me. It was not 
the act of a traitor. No! It was the Lance of 
Kanana that rescued Arabia .” 


THE END 


165 

























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